Gata!
by maggot-senpai
Summary: Rukia Kuchiki is what some would call, a closed minded woman. The issue of love is one she cannot be distracted with, unless it's from her trustworthy companion, and very special cat, she's named, Ichigo. Full description inside! ICHIRUKI / M 18
1. DESCRIPTION&NOTES

**DESCRIPTION **:: NOTES :: DISCLAIMER

Rukia Kuchiki is what some would call, a closed minded woman. The issue of love is one she cannot be distracted with, unless it's from her trustworthy companion, and very special cat, she's named, Ichigo. The idea of "magic" or supernatural occurrences is one that she keeps far stranded, until a trip with her best friend to a humble "potions" shop, run by a shady old man, makes her life, a little weirder. And— a little more _interesting_.

DESCRIPTION :: **NOTES **:: DISCLAIMER

*A/N: Me and my very best friend have talked about a plot like this for a long time now! She loves the idea, and had begged me to write a fiction for it for a while (I'm just now finally caving in, lol) because I love her so so much. I hope she loves it, and I hope all of those who read it enjoy it as well! Haha, this is going to be fun!

The following fiction is rated **M** for: profane language, alcohol, sexual suggestion, violence, and pooossible (and by possible I mean more than likely) lemon in the future— because when life hands you lemons, you make ichiruki-lemonade whenever possible. Am I right? Probably not. That's just me!

_Quick fun fact_: I chose a **Savannah** **Cat**— a breed of cat which is a mix between a domestic house cat and a serval (wild cat)— as a choice of breed. You should google them, they're absolutely beautiful! They're very large, tall, and powerful animals that love and are care, and are loyal. They're just...they're perfect.

DESCRIPTION :: NOTES :: **DISCLAIMER**

I do not own Bleach...yet.


	2. Prologue

**GATA!**

**PROLOGUE ****  
**

The prologue and the first few (either two or three) chapters are what I've used to show a bit of insight on Rukia's past life, her childhood (just a part of it) and how she came to meet/adopt Ichigo! Enjoy please! And always remember to leave a review!

* * *

With wind whipping as she ripped through it full speed, the fastest possible pace her small body and stout legs would allow, locks of silk raven pulled into childish twintails upon her small head. The light blue hair scrunchies used to secure her dripping dark locks matched with her playful dress which fluttered in the wind, hair bouncing, the bookbag on her back thrashing and rattling its inside content chaotically. She runs as if something or someone with malicious intent is chasing her. As if their goal is to snatch her from her feet, and prohibit her from running any further than she pleased, or as if, there was something, or _someone _in the path before her that she'd wanted to reach so badly and so dearly! She wouldn't dare stop to become distracted with environmental things, such as people or objectives.

And that, was her very reason for running as hard as she could. The distance from bus's stop, down the ceaseless sidewalk, to the being she'd waited all day to return home to. This being, this _man _stood stationary as he saw her approach. He crouches down and extends his arms, his smiling face and dazzling blue eyes greeting her today just as they had everyday. The child took her final step, before leaping from the ground to hurl herself into his secure, strong arms.

"R—" The man huffed, all of his breath knocked from his body upon impact, "_Rukia_! My goodness, you're excitable today."

"Because, because," the child cheered with glee. She broke free from their embrace and tore her bookbag from her body to bring it to the ground, where she could shuffle through the disorganization inside with more ease.

It was only a few seconds more before she leaped again with giddy and smacked the adult male in his face with a sheet of paper. He peeled it away to read it carefully, as Rukia bounced impatiently before him, "_Mhm_." He hummed as he read, irking her the more he did it, and he was aware. However, this was his goal, to tease her, and smile wickedly at her disgruntled expression and frame as she bounced in tantrum. "It's an honor roll certificate."

"_Yes_!" Rukia howled in reply, "I made all A's! Just like you told me to!"

"Well good job!" He snickered, and pat Rukia playfully on the head. She huffed and pouted her bottom lip. "What?"

"You _know _what!" She snapped, "Byakuya! You promised! You promised that if I got all A's—"

"Which you did."

"That you would let me get one!" Rukia began to jump, up and down her feet left the ground over and over and her lush mane jumped. "Please? _Please_!?"

"Well..." Byakuya pressed his hand to his chin in thought, his eyes rolling to the top of his head and his lips pursed. Rukia pursued to begging, mercilessly, _desperately_. She clung to his shirt and ripped, and tugged, and jumped until he was sure she would take it off of him— and possibly _strangle_ him with it.

"Please— _pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease_—"

"Alright," He finally agreed, standing to his feet and taking his hand to the back of Rukia's head, "get your stuff back in your bag and I'll start the car. We'll go now."

Her jaw fell from it's hinges, mouth agape and wide with jollity which was incomprehensible to her or anyone at this moment. Without wasting a further second of standing and doing nothing she sloppily stuffed everything back into her bag, zipped it up and pulled it up onto her back. Taking Byakuya's large masculine hand into her tiny delicate ones, as she followed him to the driveway of their home, and to the glistening white vehicle that awaited them. It was her chariot ride to a life soon made happier with a very special addition.

One she would find at the local pet store, the destination in which they reach within a twenty minute time frame. A twenty minute time frame of Rukia chattering endlessly about what sort of animal she wants, how she wants it to look. How she wants her very own bright white fluffy rabbit which she'd name, "Chappy", after her absolute favorite icon. Twenty minutes, in which Byakuya would have to endure every second, every drop of words that fell from her lips, an ocean of sentences and gibberish and— _torment_.

Until finally, he'd carefully parked his car, as they arrived at the pet store.

Rukia slipped out of her seat, disregarding the unbuckling of her safety belt, why bother when you're small and agile like she is? Before Byakuya could make it around his car to open the door for her, she'd already swung it open, nearly off its hinges, and sprung out of the vehicle to meet him on the black asphalt. The least he could do, was close the door behind her.

She took his hand once more and tugged mercilessly on his arm, dragging him along behind her as they made their voyage to "Pet Kingdom". Where Rukia nearly exploded through the automatic double doors for the simple fact that they'd taken more than five seconds total to open as she approached them. They'd finally made it all the way inside before she froze, and stared in awe at all the wonderful pets and supplies, and released Byakuya's hand to explore. Leaving him at the doors, to be greeted by a cheerful store assistant in a bright yellow apron, "Welcome to Pet Kingdom," she greeted. "May I help you with something today?"

"Not me," Byakuya chuckled darkly, and pointed up at Rukia who bounced around the store so hyper actively, even the animals watched, intrigued. The woman giggled, and carried on to Rukia's side at a point in which she'd ceased her frolicking. Standing before the glass case filled with bunnies.

Or, at least, it was _supposed _to be. That's what the sign said.

Rukia skimmed the grassy ground inside the display, she even peered deeply inside of the small plastic igloo that was the bunnies' home, if there were any occupying the space. As the assistant came to a stop beside her, Rukia looked up to the woman sadly, "Where's the bunnies?"

"Bunnies?" She blinked, and looked down into the case, "I'm sorry sweetheart. It looks like we've already sold them all!"

Her shoulders sagged in depression, and Rukia, for the first time since arriving home, didn't smile. She didn't leap, and hop, and cheer as she did before, but she pouted and whined. The employee was quick to spill words of motivation when she found that she'd broken the child's spirit, "B—but! We have plenty of _other _animals here that you may like! Why don't we take a quick look around, tell me if you see anything! What do you say?"

Rukia looked to Byakuya for quick reassurance. He nodded his head as a gesture of approval, and she took the woman's waiting hand, allowing her to escort her through the store and lurk at the animal life. Beside the rabbits, the woman guided Rukia to a display case of another— _longer _rodent, "Do you like ferrets?"

She twisted her nose up in confusion, "_Ferrets_?"

The woman nodded, "They're like bunnies! But, they don't hop. And they're long. And...they have..." She began to stammer nervously, her smiling lips, twitching, "Short...ears..."

"So," Rukia blinked, "they _aren't _like bunnies.—"

"How about these," She urged Rukia further toward another display, showcasing yet another familiar domestic rodent, "here are some cute little hamsters!"

"_Eek_!" Rukia shrilled in dismay, "They're like mice! No—nonono, no way!" She shook her head wildly in disagreement, her twintails whipping against the woman's arm. The employee took a glance at Byakuya, who stood in observance only. Silent, with his arms folded across his broad chest, waiting. "O—kay," she sighed, "then why don't we take a tour _away _from the rodents? Maybe you'll see something else you like?"

For a firm moment Rukia stood silently. She would've disagreed and argued, but found it easier to simply carry on following the worker without disruption or brawl. She followed her halfway around the entire store, brought by the reptiles— snakes, lizards, turtles...all of which she found extremely displeasing almost immediately.

Afterwards came the insects— and _that _trip hadn't lasted for more than three seconds before Rukia was cringing and rushing to get away from the creepy crawlers.

And then came, the canines. "How about a puppy?" The woman crouched down to tap against the glass wall separating her from the lively pups inside. They all came to meet her at the glass, yipping and lapping with their flat wet tongues. Rukia giggled playfully, and then she too came to press her hand against the glass, "Can I see them!? Up close!?"

"Well," the woman hummed melodically, "If your father says we can take you inside to see them..."

Although Byakuya wasn't Rukia's father, she hadn't been interested to correct the woman, but to beg Byakuya if he would allow her permission to enter and if he would come along. She'd already begged her way all the way here, so refusing her at this point only seemed farcical. He and the woman both led Rukia into the cleanliness of the white room behind the glass walls, where the barks and whines of dogs and puppies rang more vividly, and she could see their cages instead of glass. "Just pick one," the woman offered, "any one!"

"Hmmm," Rukia broke away from holding her hand and walked down the line of dogs. Big dogs, smaller dogs, dogs that barked, yipped and yelped, happy to see her. And dogs that snarled and roared in detest to her presence. And then there were those that were silent, lying down against the floor quietly with droopy or tired eyes. None of which grabbed her interest.

"Noisy," Rukia moaned, pressing her hands to her ears as she came back to report her final decision to the employee and her older brother, "do you have things...less _loud..._?"

Ah, cats. Beautiful, graceful felines. This part of the store was much quieter than the canine section. Here she could examine all the majestic creatures without the loud chatter, perhaps the occasional squeak or "mew", but nothing more than that. She watched them, some of them pacing the ground in which they were forced to roam inside their cages. She wished to free them all, just as she'd wished to free the dogs— but not the rodents.

Or the bugs.

Definitely not the bugs.

Both Byakuya and the woman leaned in, hopeful. Silent. Waiting patiently for Rukia's final word of approval— or detest. Her glittering blue hues shot from left to right, up and down, looking from the big cats to the small. The slender, to the poofy, fat cats. Those with pointed noses and big eyes, to those with flat faces and smaller eyes. Whipping tails and tongues lapping across their own fur, some hacking up said fur, but none, she wanted.

She lowered her head, and shook it side to side, slowly. Her final sign, of disapproval.

Rukia Kuchiki left that day, from Pet Kingdom, she looked back at the double doors at the kind woman who waved farewell to both she and Byakuya as he escorted her back to their car. He opened her door an she crawled in, sluggishly, slipping herself into the seat and beneath the seat belt. He then closed the door and came to the driver's seat, entering the car and securely shutting the door behind him. It wasn't until he'd stuck the keys in the ignition, and adjusted his rear view mirror, that he saw Rukia, in the backseat. Her arms crossed and her expression ripped with woe, it stuck a stake in his heart that wouldn't budge as long as he stared.

So he looked away, and began to drive further away from the land of Pet Kingdom.

Five minutes down the road, he glanced again into his rear view mirror and found Rukia, unchanged. "Hey," he finally spoke, "you okay back there?"

She shook her head, silent.

"Wanna stop and get some ice cream?"

It took a moment, a few seconds with no retort, and she shook her head again, no. Byakuya huffed from his nostrils and rubbed the back of his head anxiously, "Look, I know we've been talking about this for a long time and...I'm sorry we couldn't get you that bunny you wanted.—"

"It's okay," Rukia sighed. Grimly. Byakuya exhaled, "Wanna try another store?"

She shook her head no.

"Why not?"

"I just wanna go home—" She finally delivered a plausible reason for her constant denial, "I'm tired...I just wanna do my homework...and take a nap..."

Being tired, well, sounded more than convincing. All that energy she's burned off all in just one day, being overly excited about a gift, she didn't receive. Byakuya silenced himself, and they continued their voyage in silence until he'd driven them home, and she freed herself from the imprisonment of the car. He too exited the vehicle, and locked before approaching the front door of their home. Placing his hand atop her head one last time in a genuinely apologetic frisk of her hair before unlocking the door, and letting her inside their quiet home.

~X~

Tranquility. The house was _particularly _quiet this morning, without Rukia here it was as if the entire world had stopped on its axis. With her away at school it left Byakuya the time he required to recharge and reread articles in "Parents" magazines, or online writings. Anything to get him more in tune with the requirements and the "how-to's" to raising a young girl into a young woman on his own.

He did this frequently when she was away, and when she would return he'd hide the magazines beneath the cushions of the couch, or his bed. His mouth stretched to it's fullest elasticity, and he yawned loudly into the quiet air. Peace.

Boredom.

He scraped his nails across his chest, across the heather gray cotton fabric of his t-shirt and sighed a sigh of exhaustion. He'd gotten Rukia up and out of bed, dressed and ready for school, and now he was alone. Alone and tired. Alone and bored.

Parent Magazine would have to wait today, for he would find something productive to do. Yeah. Productive.

He opened the door to a brand new and sunshiny day, stretching his arms and legs at the frame and slipping into his house slippers which were set beside it. Even only from here, the mail box seemed miles away, when in actuality it was as far as traveling down his driveway which could be no longer than four or five yards. But. Still.

He closed the door carefully behind him and made his pursuit, at the end of his driveway, he finally opened the mailbox and took into his hand a thick plethora of envelopes. Shuffling through them where he stood.

Bills.

Bills.

Parent Magazine monthly. Followed by, bills.

He grit his teeth and winced, closing his mailbox once more and bowing his head at the responsibilities weighed upon it—

"Good morning!" A man shouted from across the street. He looked up again to find, it was his friendly neighbor, an elderly man in his eighties— he thinks. His hair is white and short and his eyes are heavy with bags, along with the rest of his face and skin. Nonetheless he was a very lively old man, generous and charismatic, and he'd lived in the neighborhood far longer than he had— or anyone else for that matter.

"Good morning," Byakuya retaliated with a wave, and a smile. He looked to his left, and then his right, and darted across the street when he found it safe to. There he'd meet with the man at his mailbox, where he had started towards on his sturdy wooden cane. He took the liberty to save him the extra steps, and retrieved his mail for him, bringing it to him instead of her going to it. "Oh, thank you son!" The old man laughed as he took his mail, he gently whapped him in the chest with it, "Eh! And how's that precious little sweetheart of yours doing?"

"Rukia," he began, hesitant and hissing through his teeth, "she's a little pessimistic now, I'll have to say."

"Oh no! What on Earth's got that child down!?"

"Well, I promised her a bunny if she brought home an honor roll. Which she did. But, when we went to the pet store, there _were _none. Even after we got home and she fell asleep, I drove around to all the others, and the ones that _did _have bunnies, none of them were the kind she'd like." Byakuya exhaled in grimace and caressed his face to get rid of the sleep that lingered upon it, "It's got her really upset."

"Oh...c'mere," the old man insisted as she turned away from Byakuya and started towards the front door of his home once more, "c'mere! Inside! I've got somethin' for ya...now, it's not a bunny! But I'm sure...she'd love it..."

His heart skipped a beat in excitement, as he followed the man into his home and allowed him to pave the way to whatever destination he'd lead him to. It was his living room, large and vintage with paintings hanging from every wall and retro furniture. "Now, my...one of my daughters got me this cat on my...seventy-fifth," he began as he made his way further into the living room. "And that was...ten years ago—"

His eyes widened in appall, _years _ago he says? He had no idea he'd been living across the street from a man so close to his nineties. Remarkable as it seems, he's still so mobile and fresh and alive! "Eh, they both said I needed some company around this place. Since, y'know, I'm gettin' old! Yep, time stops for no man, and that's the truth...ever since their mother died, I've been here. Doin' nothin' but...gettin' old..."

"I'm very sorry to hear that," Byakuya began, "about your wife—"

"But this cat! She was a, _beautiful _cat!" The man continued, as if he hadn't heard a single thing Byakuya said. And to be honest, he probably hadn't, "A _special _breed, my granddaughter says...she had to get her directly from the breeders! She paid a hefty sum for that cat, she did! How much, I don't recall...but, she was a gorgeous creature. A _Savannah _she called it! I named her, _Masaki_. After my wife. Yep! They were both so beautiful, the same strawberry blonde hair...fur..." He coughed heinously between sentences before taking a seat on the couch, "_eh._..."

"Would you like me to get you a cup of water?" Byakuya offered the man just before placing a hand on his shoulder gently. But the old man insisted otherwise, "No, no, you're fine son! But boy, would I have loved to have had a son like you...ahh, but he probably wouldn't have wound up like you! I would've given him a hard time, toughen him up! Just like his old man!"

He shook his fist in laughter, laughter in which Byakuya joined him in, and sat with him on the couch, "Yep...but god blessed us, with two beautiful twin baby girls instead. Two girls that are now, two mature women who think their dad is...gettin' old...yep."

He hadn't had the intention of rushing the old man, however Byakuya began to wonder, if the man had forgotten the entire reason that he offered him into his home to begin with. "There's...something you wanted to show me? For Rukia?"

"Oh! Oh yes, right, right," the old man waved his cane before standing once more and making his way slowly across the room, "You see, this cat, she just died— couldn't have been more than...well, three weeks ago! But before then, she gave birth to a beautiful litter...there were three of 'em, kittens. But, one of 'em passed...and then, the second one went along with 'im..."

Which leaves the third one. Byakuya rose to his feet and followed the man eagerly to his point of stationary position, and stopped a foot behind him, as the man reached down into a small basket covered with blankets and pulled something up from inside of it. He turned slowly, cradling the bundle of blue blankets in his arms as if he were nesting something precious and dear, "This little fella's all I got now..."

He extended his arms to Byakuya, who quickly, and hesitantly, took the cradled creature into his own security from the old man. Holding it closely to his chest. He peeled away some of the wrapping of the blanket and peered into the tiny creature's face. It's eyes closed, and it's tiny orange ears flattened. It let out a yawn, small and shrill, shifting in Byakuya's arms. The old man laughed, and then, he sighed softly, "I'm much too old to take good care of 'im...and the good lord knows, I don't have a lot of time left...the least I can do is leave this Earth, knowing that I've made a young girl's life a little bit happier..."

Byakuya looked up from the kitten, and into the old man's glazed eyes, "You...you're giving it to me? N—now?"

"Well of course, son! It's now or never, isn't it!?" The old man cackled, and then coughed loudly, "Ah! Don't you worry, I got all the formulas and bottles in the kitchen! I've been takin' care of the little guy for a whole month now, and doin' pretty well if I say so myself! I've got all the instructions, all the necessities..."

He could hardly hear the man's rambling now, his mind was racing in fear. What if she hadn't wanted the kitten? He couldn't simply _return _it! He looked down into the closed eyes of the animal once more, and for a moment, his fears disintegrated. It was a tiny, orange kitten with darker orange stripes that'd barely come into its fur, but had been visible at this point. An animal as delicate and precious as this, who _wouldn't _want it? He pecked at the kitten's tiny nose with the tip of his finger, and watched as it's tongue flicked up and out from its pink mouth to catch his finger.

"—And I've got 'is mother's bed upstairs beside mine, eh, would you go and get it for me son?"

"S—sure!" Byakuya exclaimed, as he then, at that very moment, synched back into reality. He cautiously moved with the kitten, up the stairs to where he believed was the old man's room, and took the cat's bed from beside the king-size bed. And then, back downstairs he came to find the man slowly filling a ragged duffel bag with small bottles, formula, and blankets and a tiny pillow...

"I'm sure she'll love the little fellow," he smiled at Byakuya, as he zipped the bag full of its contents.

"Does he have a name," Byakuya interrogated before approaching the man and his bag full of goods. "No," the old man shook his head, "I hadn't thought 'im up one...but Rukia can do that! I'm sure her young mind will think of something...heh...well, I've got everything you'll need! It's all in here!" The man slid the bag towards Byakuya, across the island counter top of his kitchen, "He hasn't had his shots yet...you'll need to get 'im those when he turned eight weeks old! He's only three and a half weeks now, so he'll be on the bottle for...eh, maybe a week, two weeks top. You'll find everything you need to do to take care of him online I bet, crazy internet—"

"Thank you," Byakuya bowed his head, graciously. Genuinely thankful for the gift he's received. He took the bag from the counter and swung it over his shoulder, his other arm still gently holding the bundle of blankets and the kitten wrapped inside, "Thank you so much. I don't know how I could repay you—"

"You just take good care of him," the man said, "now go on! You have to feed him every four to five hours! You better get a move on before he wakes up..."

Byakuya nodded his head once more, giving the man his final farewells before exiting the house, and making towards the end of the driveway. "Goodbye Mr. Kurosaki," he waved one last time before crossing the street, entering into Kuchiki territory, and crossing the line that was his door, into his home. With a new addition to their home, in his arms.


	3. Chapter 1: When we first met

**GATA!**

**CHAPTER ONE **:: **WHEN WE FIRST MET**

* * *

Disbanding from the school bus, Rukia took to walking on her own down the sidewalk busy with children's laughter and play. She sighed quietly, and continued on her way, in the opposite direction of the childish ruckus that took place behind her. Kids walking in pairs of two, sometimes three. Friend chattering and giggling, pushing and playing. All except Rukia, who only had _one _person to look forward to playing with once she unboarded the bus.

And that person was—!

Not...in his regular spot.

She seemed puzzled, Rukia. She'd expected to see him, even if the bus stopped only two houses down from their home— Byakuya was always standing out by the mailbox to make sure she had gotten off the bus and came home safely. His absence overwhelmed her with a sense of unease, and this made her rush to her door.

Even so, though he was absent, the front door had been unlocked when she twisted the knob to tuck safely into her home. And she entered, just on the edge of tears before she found Byakuya resting easy on the living room couch.

"Rukia," he seemed surprised of her presence, his eyes wide and his expression guilty, "oh God, I didn't even see or hear your bus come! I'm sorry, Rukia. I got carried away—"

"What's that?" Rukia sniffled quietly as she closed the door to their home shut and locked it. She removed her footwear at the door, as routine, and trickled further into the living room whilst removing her bookbag to set it upon the couch beside Byakuya. By "that" she had been referring to the bundle of soft blue blankets he kept in his arms. He pat the vacant cushion beside him as a friendly gesture for her to join him on the couch, and she did, with gusto.

"Well," he began, almost whimsically as if a fairytale were to be told, "I talked to our neighbor...Mr. Kurosaki today. And, I told him about the bunny..."

Rukia's eyes widened, with a twinkle of hope in her dazzling blues.

It almost pained him to say the next part of his speech, "He didn't have a bunny, but," Byakuya choked out before he looked away from her face carefully. "He gave us something else. Something special."

"Special?" Rukia cooed inquisitively. She dove sideways to see what could've possibly been so special to have been wrapped up so carefully and held so tender. Her lips fell agape to the sight before her eyes, the young kitten feeding from the small bottle Byakuya kept to its mouth as its eyes were kept closed. She smashed her hands to her cheeks, and flew back against the couch, her legs thrashing in jubilation, "Can I hold it! Huh, can I!?"

Byakuya laughed before removing the nipple of the bottle from the kitten's mouth and unwrapping him from his imprisonment in the blankets. She nearly screamed, Rukia. Seeing the animal in it's trembling, vulnerable entirety. So small and feeble that Byakuya needed no more than one hand to support it. "Sure," he said, and carefully, he transitioned the feline from his hand, to Rukia's.

Rukia took him gently from Byakuya's grasp and held him close with both her hands. Nearly brought to tears, she wrinkled her nose and sniffled, a weak attempt to hold them back from falling from her wobbling eyes.

"So," Byakuya began wolfishly, "do you like him?"

"I lo...I love him! I love him so much, thank you Byakuya!"

"Don't thank me," he snickered, "you should pay a visit to Mr. Kurosaki. And thank _him _for letting us have him!"

Rukia nodded her head wildly and slid down from off the couch, cradling the tiny cat closely to her chest. "Eh— Rukia!" Byakuya cried out to her in terror, "W—why don't you let _me _hold him...while you get your shoes on! You don't want to shake him too much!"

~X~

_Ding dong_.

Rukia bounces, filled to the brim with elation— she was about ready to erupt and soar higher into the sky than any firework could ever go! It was a while before she'd heard any signs of life inside the house, but a faint, "_I'm coming_", and several seconds later, the front door swung wide open.

"Thank you!" Rukia blubbered, finally she'd let the tear's she'd been holding back since arriving home fall in heavy downpour along the rounds of her rosy cheeks. Even her nose dripped, she felt as pitiful as she probably looked, and the old man laughed, before lowering himself to give her a firm hug. "You're welcome, sweetie!" Mr. Kurosaki insisted, as he rubbed the young girl's back and she squeezed her little arms around his shoulders as much as she possibly could.

It was a heartwarming display, to say the least. Byakuya stood by to watch with his face growing warm, his entire being, flooding with happiness to see her so optimistic after days of woe. When she finally let go, Rukia brought her hands to her face, where she balled her fists into tight rounds and rubbed viciously at her overflowing eyes.

"Hey now, calm down! You don't have to cry to show you're happy," Mr. Kurosaki laughed, placing a warm hand on Rukia's shoulder, "smile! Smile!"

"I'm just...so...happy..." Rukia choked between words with sloppy bawling.

"When she gets like this it's hard to stop her," Byakuya groped the back of his neck anxiously. He'd hoped only that Mr. Kurosaki would take his word for it, embarrassing as it was, standing behind his hysterical nine year old sister with nothing more to do than stand behind her, and _hope _she'll pull herself together. Trying to stop her was futile, if not, impossible. Improbable even.

"I'd better get her inside," he insisted, taking Rukia by the hand with his free hand whilst cradling the snoozing animal with his other, "thank you again, Mr. Kurosaki! You've really mad her happy! Really..._really _happy."

"Of course," Mr. Kurosaki bellowed in laughter, waving his arm high in farewell to the two as they escaped the grip of his lawn, and took to the streets and crossing it. All the way up until they'd reached the front door of their home, where Byakuya glanced down at Rukia, who'd somewhat softened her wailing cries. He knew however, that the day has had yet to end.

And that means, more happiness was yet to come. Which in result, lead to more _sobbing_.

But he didn't mind. At least she was happy now.


	4. Chapter 2: The next two years

**GATA!**

**CHAPTER TWO **:: **THE NEXT ****TWO YEARS**

* * *

"Byakuya!" Rukia made her presence known as she crossed through the door's threshold into her home. She entered furthermore at a sluggish pace, dragging her dark leather satchel across the ground behind her dark school loafers. Clogging along, as slow as the undead. Today marked her first day of middle school, her first day in uniform, and her first day— well, let's just say, it wasn't her _best day_.

Still, she and her brother lived in the same home in the same neighborhood. The only difference in the two year time frame other than her aging from nine to eleven and changing into junior high, was that Byakuya had found himself a small job in a business setting. He described it as, working in the "cube farm" from nine to five, but it was better than nothing— and he'd do anything to keep them living comfortably.

His absence was one thing she would still have to adjust to, and learn to overcome. But in the meantime, she has company, who's name she calls out for next in a vociferous boom—

"_Ichigo_!" She cried, hurling herself into the cushions of the couch front-first. She slid to her knees and buries her face in the squeaky leather exterior, and in the second it'd taken to hit the ground, she heard the rampaging of several claws and little feet storming across the hall on the second floor of the house, and down the stairs.

It wasn't long before the creature had made his appearance in the living room, and sprang up from the ground onto the couch beside Rukia's head, where he tucked into her and scooped up her chin with his head. She gave him as much as a soft laugh, and rolled over to pick herself up onto the couch, and give him leeway to stretch across her lap.

"_God_, Ichigo. You really are getting big!" Rukia cooed in awe as she slipped her hand up the length of the feline's back and up his tail, which he whipped and curled in the air. Byakuya failed to describe the growth spurt of cats of this breed— then again, there was a doubt in her mind that Byakuya had even known himself. It was as if it were only yesterday that she remembers her self at nine years old, scampering into the house when she found that Byakuya hadn't been in their normal meeting spot at the end of the sidewalk.

She'd found him on the couch that day, leaning back against it and bottle feeding something— something small and wrapped in a blanket. Before she could begin to guess what it might have been, he called her over to see for herself, and she fell in love with the tiny critter, which she'd called "little brother" for the weeks following. It was when the kitten had turned 5 weeks old that Rukia then called him Ichigo, for his strawberry blonde coat.

It was on that day, that Byakuya had taken him to the veterinarian to receive his first shots just as old man Kurosaki had suggested. It was that day that Rukia cried when she heard the pained shrill her precious kitten exerted, when his flesh had been stuck with the thin needle, and for the rest of the day she held him. It was also on that day, both she and Byakuya learned that Ichigo was an "F2"— or second _filial_,from the Latin word _filius_or "son", type. Byakuya had to later explain that this meant Ichigo came from another Savannah cat who had bred with a domestic cat, and therefore, Ichigo was a second generation serval.

She'd asked how that worked, and he he didn't answer her. And for a moment, she thought, that perhaps even her all knowing older brother had no clue. All he could tell her was that Ichigo would grow to be bigger than a normal cat, but even they didn't expect such a rapid growth. By age ten, and only a year old, Ichigo had already stretched to be about as tall as Rukia. And it would frighten Byakuya when the cat would leap up to affectionately wrap its paws around Rukia's shoulder, greeting her after a long day of school.

But not Rukia. She knew Ichigo could never— _would _never harm her. "You kinda look..." Rukia began, and then, she stopped. She stopped to examine the animal one more time and stood up from the couch, picking Ichigo up with her arms around his ribcage. His feet nearly touched the ground in this stretched position, and his tail curled around her leg, he was in obvious distress being lifted in such a way. But, he'd tolerated it for so long, one more time wouldn't do him any harm.

"Like a _cheetah_!" Rukia chirped. She released the cat at once, and allowed him to create a distance between them, before Rukia purposely fell to her hands and knees and jumped towards him. Ichigo leapt in surprise, he flew from the ground and up onto the coffee table just to the right of Rukia, and then pounced onto her back and off again. Rukia sprang up to her own two feet, and snatched her satchel up from the ground. Skipping up the stairs, with her furry partner in close pursuit! He was indeed, a lot like a cheetah in his speed and agility, when one looked at him.

She lured him into her room and he jumped up onto her bed before she closed the bedroom door behind him. "Ugh! Today was the _worst_," she groaned grimfully, "are you ready to hear this buddy?"

The cat stretched across her bed, touching both ends across the width of Rukia's mattress with his claws, as his tail whipped high in the air. Rukia joined him in his comfort, lying across her bed beside him, on her back so that her legs stretched up flat against her wall, and her long dark hair webbed out around her head. "Well, today was my first day of sixth grade...everything is so different now! We have little lockers with combination locks— and today! During recess, this _boy _kicked sand on my shoes! I _hate_ boys!"

Ichigo rolled over on his side, stretching his arms and legs out to touch against Rukia before he pulled in with his head, and nuzzled her cheek. "Except you Ichigo," Rukia reiterated, she smiled and caressed his head with the back of her hand, "you're the only boy I like! Your fun! And your cute— not like _that boy _at school...he's stupid. And his...his...his face is stupid and his..._hair_! It's all...red...and...and, _stupid_."

She was digging now. Looking for ways to insult the young boy from her school without, really looking too deep. Attacking the nature of his hair was far from the offense she wished to reach, but it would have to do until she came up with something better. "You're so lucky you don't have to go to school, Ichigo. You get to stay home and sleep and eat food...do you miss me when I'm not home?"

Ichigo stilled, for several moments until he rolled over again onto his back, and then on his underbelly where he could reach out and place a paw on Rukia's forehead. She'd take that as a yes. "And what about Byakuya? Do you miss him too?"

It was hard, differentiating a yes from a no when talking to an animal, or even knowing if said animal had the slightest clue of what you were saying to it. Rukia had a way of telling whether Ichigo is pleased or displeased by something she does, says, or how she says it. But sometimes, he's enigmatic, and leaves her wondering whether what she's said is satisfactory, or if he just doesn't care. Or. Doesn't understand.

"I miss him," She said flatly, brushing her finger over the ears of the cat. He flatted his ear and immediately flicked it erect again, twitching and waving the tall thin ear. She smiled, warmed by the feline's gentleness, as Ichigo rested his chin flat on Rukia's abdomen and allowed her to scratch behind his ear. Purring. "I love you, Ichigo." Rukia cheeped, before relinquishing to stay conscious. She allowed herself to shut her eyes, and shift comfortably in her bed, while Ichigo found his place under her arm and up against the warmth of her pulse.


	5. Chapter 3: Eighteen

**GATA!**

**CHAPTER THREE **:: **EIGHTEEN**

A/N: Here is where we start getting closer to the present day Rukia and Ichigo! This is just a little bit before she moves out and starts becoming independent.

* * *

It's the weekend, and six years since her start to junior high, marking the end of her highschool years. All the drama, the heartbreak, the make-ups, and the break-ups she'd endured for the past four years would finally be cast aside as she entered the "adult world", as Byakuya calls it. Since then, Byakuya's position in his workplace had risen to that of managerial status, which allowed him the leeway to complete law school and make him the corporate lawyer he was today. And he's been working harder, _longer _hours recently, leaving Rukia to test her independence in their home.

Saturday morning she's already started her day with making herself breakfast, in the new kitchen of their new home. A home which she'd had to _beg _Byakuya to take Ichigo along with them, which he was hesitant about, when seeing just how much destruction a large cat like him could cause. Destruction in the form of torn couches, ripped curtains and scratches on walls, all things Rukia admitted to doing, and _obviously _lied about doing.

Nowadays, Ichigo is tame. He is calmer and ceases his reign of mayhem and destruction. He wears a harness fit around his large frame, sleek black leather straps, and a black collar with silver studs in which a platinum plate dangled from it with the name, "Ichigo" in black.

He scampers behind Rukia's feet, quickening his pace as she did, until she's at a full fledged run up the stairs and away from him. This was a game they often played, a game of cat and mouse, _she _being the mouse. Ichigo would not run at his full god-given speed, if he had he would've surely surpassed her by a long shot, though Rukia was quite the fast runner herself— even since childhood.

He kept a pace much slower than his full extent and rushed behind her up each and every step. Rukia cut around the corner of the hallway, and into her bedroom where she stopped in the middle of her floor, and ducked. Ichigo pounced up, several feet high off the ground and onto Rukia's back, biting at the back of her shirt and tugging before finally jumping off and onto her bed. She laughs, and stands up straight with her arms out.

"Ah," Rukia yipped, an aggressive vibration catching both she and Ichigo's ears. Ichigo was the first to reach its source, a small black cellphone resting on the top of Rukia's nightstand, which he batted away and down unto the floor. Rukia scoffed, and went to retrieve her mobile device, "Stop it Ichigo," she scolded. She examined the face of her phone carefully, looking over the picture that had came up in her incoming call.

It was a young man, with dark hair and eyes of emeralds. His hair is wild and spiked and long, and his smile is wicked. His name in her phone is simply, _Kaien_, and nothing more. Nothing less. She exhaled hard in preparation, and cleared her throat before answering, calmly— "Hello?"

"What's up?" He on the opposite end of the phone's transmitter greeted wolfishly, with grin in his voice. The volume of her phone wasn't loud, but loud enough that Ichigo could hear it— as if he couldn't already with his heightened sense of hearing. The cat became immediately tense, and stood rock solid and stationary at the edge of Rukia's mattress. "Oh, nothing," Rukia replied nonchalantly, though anyone who could physically see her could tell, she was _swooning_.

She flopped down on her bed, nearly crushing Ichigo beneath her weight, if he hadn't leaped out the way just in time for her to collide with the springy pillow top, "Just, lyin' around."

"You busy later?"

"No—" Rukia broke into swift reply, "—no, I...I'm not busy."

"Cool," Kaien replied slighly, "some friends and I are going to hang later, stop by Hachi's house...watch a movie...like a kickback."

"A kickback?" Rukia responded inquisitively, "S—sure, yeah, a kickback. Count me in, when do you want me to show up?"

"I'll come pick you up at eight."

"_Eight_?" Rukia stressed the word to the point of breaking. She glanced at the clock on her wall and then at Ichigo, who sat tensely with his big amber-gold eyes set on Rukia's phone. He whipped at the device in her hand with his paw and retracted quickly when Rukia retaliated with the swing of her own hand, "Cut it out, Ichigo!"

"Ichigo?" Kaien snorted, "Who the hell is that?"

"N—no one! Ichigo is no one, he's just my cat."

Just my cat. Ichigo snapped his head away from Rukia, with his nose high, he leaped down from the bed and trotted out of her bedroom with his tail low and swaying. Rukia sat up and watched him leave, poking out her lips in digress, "Eight...alright...sounds cool! I'll be ready! Yeah...uhuh...yeah, just park outside. I'll come out the front door...keep your beams low, my brother's room faces the street...alright. Bye."

Rukia ended the call and replaced her phone on her nightstand, jumping to her feet to break into a victorious dance in the middle of her floor. "It's a date!" She cheered, and kicked her leg high in glee, "It's a date! It's a date! I've _got _to call Momo and tell her about this..."

Downstairs, Ichigo jumped down from the few remaining steps left to touch the ground floor, and entered into the living room where the only other sign of life besides Rukia and himself lingered. It was Byakuya, sprawled out across the couch in his suit, snoring, his mouth wide open and leaking salivation and his nose pressed into the couch's cushion. Ichigo sprang from the ground, up onto the couch's backboard, where he traced along the thin path, all the way to where Byakuya's head rested at the end. There, he stepped onto the arm rest and brought himself to stretch his neck over Byakuya's head, and lap relentlessly at his ear.

Byakuya's snoring faded, he shifted and kicked, batting at his ear with his hand, still half conscious. Ichigo then took to running his rough padded tongue against the side of Byakuya's face, over and over, until the man grunted and finally, he moved, "_Buh...what, cat_?" He moaned bitterly, and sat up to stretch himself over the back of the couch. It was then that he looked down to realize, he was still in his full suit, and he huffed and sluggishly rose to his feet to stretch his tight muscles.

Byakuya started up the stairs, leaving Ichigo to lie comfortably in his place on the warm couch, and watch the tv screen curiously. He took his steps slowly, starting with the first step, second step, until he neared the end of the road that was his staircase...

"Yeah! At eight o'clock," he heard Rukia shouting excitedly from her bedroom, and then she laughed and continued, "I know, isn't it great!? He's _so _cute, and he wants to take me to a party...I mean...kickback...whatever that is. Yeah...yeah I know! I'm super excited...oh! God you're right, I need to find a cute outfit to wear for tonight—"

"And just _where _did you plan on going tonight?" He interrupted, pushing open the door of Rukia's bedroom slowly. Rukia gasped in appall, quickly ending her call between she and her friend, setting her phone on her bed beside her, "No...no where! I was just—"

"A '_kickback_', huh?" Byakuya countered as he leaned against the door's frame with his arms crossed, "And when did you plan to ask me if you could go to a '_kickback_'?"

"Byakuya, please! You _have _to let me go! All my friends are—"

"And who is this young man who is 'so cute' and so _generous _to take a young girl out so late at night without permission?"

Rukia receded silently, shrinking back into her shoulders. She lowered her head, averting her brother's darkening eyes. "He's...he's nobody."

"Nobody, huh? Well then, tell 'nobody' that you'll be canceling your plans to attend whatever party he's throwing, and that you'll be at home, _studying _for your final exams instead," Byakuya reciprocated assertively, "understand?"

"You—" Rukia volted to her feet in detest, "you can't _do_ that!"

"Give me one good reason."

"I'm eighteen!" She splurged and developed the idea that that was reason enough to allow her the freedom she craved, "I can do things without permission!"

"And just what sort of _things _did you plan on doing!?" Byakuya raised his voice in anger, "I don't care if you're eighteen, nineteen _or _twenty!"

He barged into her room, storming towards her and her bed, and Rukia fell back further into her bed until she was up against the wall, and as far away as she could distance herself between her and her brother, "You live under _my _roof! Do you hear me!? These rules, they are _my _rules and as long as you are in _my _house you will _follow__— my rules!" Byakuya scolded aggressively, pointing a stern finger in the frightened girl's face, "And I refuse_—"

He slammed his hand down on the comforter of Rukia's bed with a powerful force that made her pillows jump, and sent a rip of ice shooting down the core of Rukia's body, "—I _absolutely refuse _to have any one of our neighbors think I'm raising some wild girl who runs off with boys at all hours of the night!"

"Are you calling me a _slut_!?" Rukia snapped back in fierce retaliation, "Do you think I'd degrade myself at some party for some _boy_? What the _hell _Byakuya—"

"Don't '_what the hell Byakuya_' me!" He barked, "You will stay here tonight. I'm setting _all _the alarms, I'm changing the codes, I'm activating the cameras and I will be checking this house every five _seconds _from my phone while I'm at work if I have to! If I see one car— a single come to this house, I am calling the police."

"_Why_!?" Rukia howled in grimace, "Why won't you just let me hang out with my friends!? I'm always cooped up inside of this hell hole— even back when we lived in the old house! You never let me do _anything_—"

Byakuya tore away from Rukia's bed and stormed out of her room, slamming the door closed behind him without further word of explanation. Rukia shrank down to her bedroom floor, leaning back against her bed in silence, until, without warning—

She erupted into a coarse scream that filled the air, and the house.

"I _hate _you!" She spat venomously, her face flushed and heated with anger, "I hate you, I _hate _you— I hate...this place..."

She buried her face in her drooping blankets and sniffled, strangling back her welling tears of anguish, "I _hate_ this place..."

Rukia slid to the ground, bringing her blankets down from her bed to wrap around her as she lied on the floor. She exhaled shakily, and squeezed her eyes closed tight.

~X~

On the couch downstairs, Ichigo twitched his ears sharply. His head lifting from his paws, he rose to fall from the couch and start his trail towards the stairs. It was hours, long after Rukia and Byakuya's fight and long after Byakuya had left. Imediately following the ordeal, he'd gone up to Rukia's room and scratched on the closed door— but then, she scolded him for bothering her and told him to leave her alone.

But now, he had heard her door finally open, and footsteps leading out into the hallway. He stood at the bottom step, watching her approach the stairs, her face puffy and red and swollen. She started her journey down the steps, coming to the final one before she mumbled, "_Move Ichigo_" and stepped past him. Ichigo followed her into the kitchen, after her shuffling feet. He slipped in between the gap of her legs and curled himself around each one of her slender stems until she stopped, and came to find herself lightly laughing.

"Hey, cut it out," she smiled dimly, dipping down to pick him up from the ground and place him on the kitchen island. At his age now, which was nine years old in human years, and an estimated fifty-three years old in "cat years", he had grown to a massive size for house cats. He could've passed off for a juvenile cheetah, if given that he had spots instead of orange stripes. Ichigo stretched on his hind legs, up to smack the pots and pans dangling from the ceiling on their holder which hung above the island, as Rukia rummaged through the freezer.

"In a couple of years, Ichigo...I think I'm going to have to move out," she said softly. She came out from the freezer with a small container of strawberry ice cream, and popped the lid off from it's ring, digging into the frozen dairy treat with a large spoon. "What do you think?" She interrogated him rhetorically, "Wanna come with me? We'll have our own place together, just you, and me."

Ichigo fell to all fours, lifting up to crawl across the island and press his head against her soft neck. She grinned as she took another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth, and brushed his fur generously with the warm palm of her hand as she replied.

"Yeah," Rukia said, as she huffed and tilted her head to rest her cheek gently against his fur, "I think it's a good idea too..."


	6. Chapter 4: Present day - Worry

**GATA!**

**CHAPTER FOUR **:: **PRESENT DAY, WORRY****  
**

* * *

Irony has set its place deep within her life, when she's grown to the age of twenty-one and though she'd striven for independence years ago— she _fought _against the oppressing fists of her brother's tyrannic hands, for freedom. Independence, and freedom to do what she thought would allow her all the time in the world to do whatever she wanted...

Moving out was her final, sticking decision. And she completed in doing so by fetching herself a job as a cashier in a video store. It's now, and only now, that she realizes independence does _not _mean freedom. It does _not _mean there are no rules, and things go without consequence.

What independence has meant for Rukia Kuchiki in the two years that she has lived on her own, is constant struggle and over exertion of one's self. She's worked ceaseless hours, night shifts, at her _current_ job in the convenience store for the entirety of two years, living off of minimum wage and keeping a roof over her _own _head. Rejecting handouts from anyone, including her own, _wealthier_ brother, and traveling in the same old hand me down car that she was given for her graduation gift.

She has _not _attended parties, _not _attended any "kickbacks"— nor does she know what that is exactly, still, to this very day and time. She's resided to being an indoor type of person, keeping herself barricaded inside from the outside world. Imprisoned in the thick white walls of her average-sized apartment, which is thankfully in good condition, and in a well kept apartment complex. The rent isn't too expensive, nor is it very cheap, but she keeps it paid and on time.

All of the friends she's made so far have been online, excluding those she's managed to somehow keep in her life from her past. And those, were only two people—

Momo Hinamori. And Renji Abarai.

Momo, she'd met her eighth grade year, and Renji she'd known since her sixth. To her, Renji came off as nothing more than a nuisance in their very first confrontation— which she vaguely remembers describing as "stupid" and calling _him _stupid. She remembers their teacher nearly _forcing _them to make up with one another, and eventually, along came a point in time where he'd actually tried to make a bond with her. And surprisingly, it stuck.

Momo's first impression upon Rukia was one, _sweeter _than with Renji. Because Momo wasn't hot headed, nor was she stubborn, asinine, or reckless. She's kind and calm, more Rukia's type except Rukia tended to over exaggerate when either excited or angry. She enjoyed many of the things Rukia enjoyed, _cutesy_ things and such, and not to mention, she likes Ichigo.

Ichigo on the other hand, holds a firm disliking towards Renji, and just about any man that's approached Rukia. That, _and _the people who either lift him without him first condoning it, or just the flat out irritating individuals.

But here she is, finally, independent. She lies on the ground in what is supposed to be her living room, although it lacks most of the furnishing that makes a living room, except for a television. And in the center of the floor lies a mat she's placed on the ground to sleep on. On one side of the apartment, she's gotten as much as the kitchen _actually _assembled and furnished with a table, necessities such as pots and pans, knives, silverware, and a coffee machine that Byakuya insisted she take.

But on the other side, and the other side being...well, all of the remaining room in the apartment, there are only few signs of even the slightest attempt at interior design. Or mostly, none at all._  
_

Tucked beneath the blanket of her "bed", Rukia lies, a heap of loose messy clothes, and messy hair that's been chopped off short. 4PM doesn't seem like a time the typical person would be asleep, in fact, this is a time where most people would be outdoors. Especially considering the exquisite sunshine and pleasant weather. However, she'd been exhausted from her long hours working night shift, and often times after work, she comes home to sleep. More often times, she won't even eat before succumbing to the pain and numbness of her achy body.

Ichigo however, is wide awake, and active in his pursuit to Rukia's prostrate body. He sits beside her messy head of hair, whipping and curling his tail across the soft carpet, and he pats his paw down on her warm cheek. She does not budge. In this state of slumber, he decides, he needs to take more action to wake her up. And he's smart enough to know now, exactly what it takes to arouse his partner from her state of unconsciousness.

He comes to all fours and begins to distance himself from her body, making a stretch as far as four feet away from Rukia, and then leaps high into the air, landing on her back and then jumping off. He does this so that he doesn't injure her in anyway, being twenty-eight pounds, and as strong as he was, causing her harm wouldn't take much more than an uncalculated jump. This action moved her, but it had not yet awakened her.

He jumped again, and again, each time just barely landing on her before springing back up and off of her. And the last time, he jumped as high as from her back, up onto the top of the television, and yet, she _still _slept. The only sign of life she'd give to him at this point, was a light moan, and her body writhed ever so slightly. So much so that she'd shifted the blankets from on top of her, to _beside _her.

He knew now, that this meant taking an even more drastic measure. Almost begrudgingly, he slipped down from the television and traveled into the kitchen which was only a short walk from the living room. There, he made his way across the tile floor, past his food and water bowl, and to the counter right beside the stove. On his hind legs alone he was tall enough to stretch up and see high above the kitchen counter, which made it as simple as a gentle leap from the ground to bring himself up onto the marble counter top.

From there, he amble towards a part of the counter just beneath the kitchen's small window. A part of the counter that sank, and dipped further down beneath the rest of the marble surface. It was a different texture and different color from the rest of the counter, and the stove. A silver tub, two tubs in fact, side by side with a silver pipe running straight up and then curving at the end so it rose above the tubs. And on either side of this pipe, were two handles, one with a blue button, and the other, with a red one.

These are two colors he's distinguished from experience, and painful experience, to be either soothingly cool, or blistering hot. And from years of close observation, he knows exactly how to activate the enigmatic contraption.

With a swipe of his paw, he hits the handle with the blue button. Once. Twice. The third time, finally budging it from it's stiff position, and thus bringing a thin stream of water to fall from the end of the pipe. With the handle now moved, it's as easy as pushing his paw against its side to get the water to run more freely. The stream thickens and pours quickly into the left tub, where the water disappears down a circular grate.

Ichigo sticks his paw out to place it against the water, to feel it's temperature, before reeling it back in to lick his wet fur. And then, he dives into it. Into the sink where he stretches his body beneath the running water, to soak all of the fur down his back, before lifting again to push the handle backwards and cease the flow of water.

He hadn't _despised _water, not nearly as much as other animals sometimes did, and when it came to Rukia, he'd usually submit and let her bathe him in it. And it was times like this where he himself would sacrifice his comfortable dry fur to the cold liquid, to wake Rukia from the thickness of her sleep. He cantered towards the edge of the counter, finally taking a last jump to put him back on the ground where he landed carefully, and came to the living room to replace himself beside Rukia.

Standing. Shrinking backwards, a few steps.

And shaking himself rapidly to assault her with bullets of the cold water.

Rukia gasped, springing up from the ground and wiping her hands down her face to rid her skin of the chilling liquid. She groaned, apprehensively glaring down at the feline guilty with the charge of wetting the carpet, and her face. She would've snapped if it weren't for her tiredness, and instead she whined, rubbing her eyes, "_Ichigo_..._why would you_..."

Ichigo whipped his paw across the floor and smacked her cellphone which lied beside her, spinning it to hit her on the leg. As if to say, "_I woke you up because of this thing_", which she learned to be the most probably explanation when she checked her alerts. Four missed calls, one from Renji Abari, and the rest all from Momo. Her phone must've been buzzing out of control! It probably annoyed him, which is probably the reason why he woke her up.

She came into her list of contacts, finding Momo's number and tapping to call, while Ichigo sat beside her, licking his fur. It took a while, and several rings later, she'd almost ended the call—

"Hello?" Momo answered, her voice loud as if she were trying to speak over something else louder.

"You called," Rukia mumbled, "_three times_."

"Were you sleeping?" She giggled lightly, "That figures! But it's time to get up, I'm on my way over there now."

"On your way?" Rukia blinked her tired eyes many times before conjuring the words to interrogate her for further explanation, "On your way for _what_?"

"You don't remember!? Rukia! You _promised_!"

Rukia's mouth had been slightly agape as she skimmed her mind for any possible promises she could've made recently to Momo. She stared at the wall with blank eyes and an expressionless face, a true sight to see if anyone but Ichigo were there to see it. She could hear Momo scoff, and practically _feel _her rolling her eyes, "We're running today! You know! Running? _Exercise_? The _park_?"

"Oh sh—_shit_," Rukia slapped her hand to her face, hard enough to the point where it were loud enough and audible to Momo through the phone, "yeah...yeah. I remember now."

"Well, get ready then! It's been a week, you're starting to slack off and it's making you tired! Exercise will help your energy," Momo exclaimed, "I'm sure Ichigo wants to come with us too!"

"The cat's too smart for his own good Hinamori," Rukia blew threw her lips and huffed hard afterward, "he just woke me up. With _water_."

"What? You mean like, a glass of water? He poured you a glass of water?"

"No, _what_— what the hell? He's not _that _smart—"

She paused, in observation— she shouldn't cast that sort of judgement upon him just yet. If he'd tried hard enough, and reached deep enough...hell, he probably could. "_Yet_."

"Put your _boyfriend_ on his leash, I'm a minute away from your apartment! I'll be there in a sec."

"I'll keep the door unlocked. Just come in when you get here, I'm going to hop in the shower."

"What if a stranger walks in instead of me?" Momo teased playfully. Rukia replied, plain and simple, "Ichigo would maul them to death, of course."

"But of course. Your _tamed cheetah_ makes an excellent guard cat after all."

"Alright, I'll see you soon," Rukia ended their conversation, and with that she also ended the call. Slowly, on wobbly legs, she came to her feet, and stretched high on the tips of her toes. "_Oh_— Ichigo!" She exclaimed, and Ichigo glanced up at her curiously as she stretched, "You're probably the only cat in Karakura town that gets walked like a dog."

Ichigo rose from the ground, and wandered down the hallway toward what _would _be her bedroom— if she'd assembled her bed, rather than leave the pieces scattered around the room, and the planks against the wall. She had more in here, like her dresser, and desk. Her nightstand, her television stand, all in disarray around the nicely sized room. Procrastination was key in this apartment, as one could probably tell by looking at such a scene as this.

Rukia followed him into the room, and toward the closet where she'd _miraculously_ hung up her clothes _neatly_. She was only in there for a moment, before she fell down and scooped up a pair of running shoes from the ground. Closing the door behind her. Then, she came to her dresser, where she plucked from the drawers— a pair of panties, a sport's bra, a plain white t-shirt, and black compression shorts.

All of which, she took to the bathroom with her, and in there she undressed, and turned the water on in the shower.

Ichigo ventured more around the apartment while given the time "alone" to do so. He rested in the warm, messy nest of blankets on the ground where Rukia once lied, curling his tail around himself. Staring at the dark television, and letting his eyes close, slowly, and his ears flatten. Moments after, the door opens, and Momo enters Rukia's apartment, humming melodically.

"Hey sweetie," she chirped, referring to Ichigo. As she came to the ground beside him, he hadn't moved nor had he flinched when upon her entering. She scooped his head up with her hand, scratching the underside of his chin and petting his head, "You okay? Ya' tired?"

He licked his nose, and lowered his head back down to the blankets, stretching his hind legs and front paws slowly. Momo kept to him, in his company she continued to gently caress his fur down the length of his long body, and soothe him to sleep. For a continuation of about thirteen minutes, until finally, Rukia emerged from the bathroom, fresh as she'll ever be at this time of the day.

"Okay," she sighed quietly, stretching where she stood and bending over to touch her toes, "ready?"

"Is Ichigo sick?" Momo questioned curiously. Rukia bent her knees to come own to a kneel, crawling to Ichigo's side and replacing Momo's hand to caress his body, "No? I don't...I don't _think _so."

"Yeah, maybe."

"He could just be tired," Rukia suggested, "let me go replace the food in his bowl and give him some fresh water. I won't make him come to the park with us. He'll stay here."

"Cool," Momo grunted as she came to her feet and twisted her torso side to side to stretch her muscles, "bring a water bottle for yourself too! Wouldn't want you to dehydrate."

Rukia had only barely heard a word Momo said as she came into the kitchen, and to her fridge to open the door and reach in to take a water bottle, cold and half empty. She took Ichigo's water bowl and disposed of the day old water inside of it, cracking open the water bottle in her hand, and emptying it into the dark steel bowl. "Yeah," she finally replied to Momo's comment as she recedes back from the counter to place his water bowl beside his food bowl, and dispose of the empty plastic bottle.

"You talk to Renji lately?"

"No," Rukia replied flatly, "why?"

"I'm just wondering. He says he's supposed to help you unpack and actually _move in_, but I see...either he's slacking, or _you _are." Momo grazed her fingers across the top of the kitchen counter as she too entered to accompany Rukia. Rukia shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, taking scoops of food from the bag of cat chow and dropping it in the food bowl, "His bowl is already full, Rukia!"

"I know but," Rukia began nervously, "it's been like this for about a week now! He barely eats, and this is the second— no, third time I changed his brand. I mean, this is the real _fancy_ stuff right here, _people _could eat this stuff!"

Momo wrinkled her nose in disgust "But he wont," Rukia continued, "he won't eat, he'll drink his water, but just barely..."

"Have you taken him to the vet?"

"Yeah, but the imbeciles there only tell me what I already know. Things like 'he's just aging' or 'he probably isn't getting enough sleep', but it's not like I keep him up at night or anything— you know? Hell, I'm not even _home _at night!"

"And it sounds to me like _he's _the one waking _you _up anyway."

"Yeah— so, it's like...I don't know. I think I'm gonna take him to another vet. It's starting to worry me honestly," Rukia sighed heavily in anguish. She took another bottle from the fridge, this one full and fresh, and she sat it on the counter as she closed the fridge, "I guess...we'll see."

"You _know_," Momo tapped her fingernails against the counter top, hesitant to speak any further, "I don't mean to be a Debbie Downer and all, but. I know Ichigo is, practically your _husband _and all."

Rukia snorted humorously at the comment, but listened with interest.

"But have you actually thought about what you would do if he..._you know_."

"No, not even _once_," Rukia admitted woefully, "I never wanted to think about it. He's been with me all my life, I mean." She shrugged her shoulders.

"I just don't want you to be depressed— I mean, I _know _you'll be depressed. But, I don't want you to get so crazy that you try and replace him and you get a _thousand_ cats! I don't think I could handle being friends with a crazy cat lady!"

"You _are _friends with a crazy cat lady," Rukia, referring to herself, laughed jokingly. Momo rolled her eyes, "I mean _bat shit _crazy."

"Yeah, well, we'll see how that turns out. I know one day the time will come, but not a day too soon until that time. Now let's go before I change me mind."

Without further a word Momo raised her brunette brows and exited the kitchen. She came to the front door and left the apartment, followed by Rukia who took a single look back at Ichigo's prostrate body, before she too left. Closing, and locking, the door behind her.


	7. Chapter 5: Urahara's Shop

**GATA!**

**CHAPTER FIVE **:: **URAHARA'S SHOP**

* * *

"Come on! Faster Rukia, keep up!" Momo's yelling had it's purpose to be "motivation" to Rukia, a sort of energetic mantra to keep her going— but instead it felt as if it would run her into an early grave. Either that, or the fact that her body felt like glass about to be shattered into thousands of pieces.

Rukia pushed on, in a sort of _jog _that looked more like a weak attempt at running, but in fact was a sloppy _power walk_ intended to satisfy Momo, but not keep her from yelling. She was running _circles _around Rukia!

"We only ran four miles!" Momo sneered, "We run one more, and then we'll jog half another one!"

This woman was _crazy_! Momo was one of those "health nuts" Rukia could never bring herself to understand. She was always eating right and staying on the wagon, and any time she ever "fell off the wagon", she'd drag herself back on even if that meant exercising for twenty-four hours straight! She was in absolute perfect shape with what seemed like not a single ounce of fat on her slender athletic build. She was one hundred and thirty pounds of pure muscle.

Muscle, and hot air, which she'd already began to expel from her mouth in the form of shouting.

Rukia on the other hand, while she was lean and slender, she was the definition of "out of shape". She was lazy, she ate what she wanted when she could and when she wanted it, and then she'd exercise— but not nearly as long or as intense as Momo. She was a machine! Rukia, eh, she was more of an observer. She now realizes it was a mistake to ever tell Momo that she wanted to get into fitness, working out to lose a little bit of stomach. It seemed like a good idea before, innocent enough. A little exercise with a friend!

An innocent idea which brought her to a hell of a boot camp experience. She nearly died twice and has ever since then, looked or any excuse _not _to exercise. But Momo was right, in the sense that exercise did boost her energy, she just had a hell of a way of doing it. All day, every day.

"Come on Rukia," Momo huffed urgently, "we're almost there! Just a little more drive!"

"So— damn— _tired_," Rukia panted, huffing hard between sentences, "you're...a mad woman!"

"A _healthy_ one!" Momo retorted snarkily, "Now let's get moving, before it gets too dark outside to keep going! And you don't want to run through the woodsy part of this track at night."

No, no she does not. Rukia pushed herself just a bit harder to come to what she would call her "standard" of running. Which was enough to satisfy Momo at the least, finally. While she was absolutely drenched in sweat, her white t-shirt sticking to her flushed skin, soaked in perspiration. Momo was in pristine condition. She was buzzing with energy, radiant, smiling. She wore a purple shirt, a sleeveless shirt, tight fighting to her figure, and black jogging pants with white shoes. Her dark brown hair pulled up into a ponytail that dripped down to her shoulders, armbands, her cellphone tracking her steps— obviously a pro to fitness.

All Rukia had were wrist bands, a headband, and a water bottle. Which was _already _nearly empty. Her breathing is hard and erratic, and Momo stops to aid her struggling friend, "Okay, okay I get it. We'll take a break, and slow down.—"

That was all she needed to hear, Rukia immediately ceased running and stumbled to the nearest bench. She fell down hard upon it, and stretched both her tight, throbbing legs out in front of her. Momo joined her in her rest, although she wasn't nearly as tired as Rukia, she was kind enough to stop and take a breather with her once in a while.

"So about Renji," she pipped curiously. "What...about him?" Rukia sputtered.

"Have you guys ever talked about, maybe...dating?"

"Each other?" Rukia twisted the cap off her bottle, swallowing the remaining few ounces of water inside before disposing of it in the trash can beside her, "no."

"Seriously? Not even once?"

"Renji's like a brother to me," Rukia said, "like, _literally _my brother. He's annoying, he gets in trouble _way _too much—"

"Who's brother are we comparing him to here? Because that's definitely not _your_ brother!" Momo laughed playfully as she spoke, "How is your brother anyway?"

"Byakuya? Aw man, I don't know. Rich, probably on a private jet somewhere right now. In Hawaii sipping water from coconuts on the beach while dolphins flippin' in the air spell his name in the sunset.—"

"Let's be _realistic_ here."

"Honestly," Rukia shrugged, "I have _no _idea."

"You don't visit? Or, he doesn't come to visit you?"

"I've _visited_. But I mean, it's not like I pop up there every week or so. The whole point of me moving out was to get _away _from that place. Like, ever since we moved into that house it's like he's gotten _bitter_. Like the house sucked all his positive energy up or something. He's just a hard pressed suit now."

"I'm sure he's still fun!"

"Well yeah, I mean, it's not like I love him any less. I'll always love Byakuya, and if anyone _but me _ever talked bad about him, I'd kill them, no question."

"_Noted_," Momo sighed, dragging out a long exasperated groan of discomfort, "oh, _man_. _I'm_ tired now..."

"You're tired _now_?" Rukia emphasized in appall. She watched as Momo rose from the bench and stretched her legs, propping her foot up on the bench to stretch the muscles in her quads next. Momo groaned softly, and nodded her head up and down, "Yeah. Sitting down's got my body thinking I'm done exercising. I guess we'll call it a day for today. I need to stop somewhere on the way home anyway. Do you mind if I stop there before I drop you off? It's right on the way to your complex."

"Sure," Rukia swiftly agreed to her friend's request, she'd agree to _anything_ to get off of this track and out of this park. The trip back would be her most energetic run yet, because her reward would be rest. Finally. _Rest_.

~X~

A short drive's all it'd take to find where Momo had needed to arrive, the trip itself took no longer than five or six minutes, and that's only half the time it takes to reach the park from Rukia's place. It was a humble, and unassuming place, Rukia noted. An empty lot with no real parking spaces, not even asphalt, a grassy lot with a small run-down shop plopped into it. Hell, Rukia's driven past this place hundreds of times if it's truly been here all this time. It was so well hidden behind the thick brush of trees, although the beginning of the path stuck out into the sidewalk, she would've never thought to take the path down into the depths of the woods.

Which made her wonder, how in _God's name _did Momo find such a place? Just as she'd began to kill her car's engine, Rukia unbuckled her seat belt, and glanced to Momo on the driver's side, "Where _are _we?"

"_Uh_," Momo pursed her lips in thought, as if she too were unsure for herself, "a _remedies_ shop?"

Rukia narrowed her eyes thinly, parting her lips to question Momo's inquisitive speech— "I don't know what to call it exactly because the man here sells _a lot _of things. Handmade, home made things. I come here to get my herbal teas and bath oils and stuff."

"_Oh_," Rukia breathed, relieved. She followed Momo outside of the car, and after making sure it was locked, followed her to the front step of the old shop. She knocked gently on the door, and waited patiently for an answer. And thus it came, in the form of a small, bashful looking girl who opened the door whilst standing cautiously behind it. She was pale with rosy cheeks and big dark blue eyes, much like Rukia's. Her hair is long and dark, and falls over her shoulders, which are covered like the rest of her torso in a white shirt. "Come in," she insists, shyly, "Ms. Hinamori. And you brought a friend?"

"This is my friend Rukia! Rukia, this is Ururu," Momo introduced the women to one another, "she works and lives here also."

"You're the owner?" Rukia questioned, astonished. She would be blown away if this young girl claimed to own this establishment, no matter how old or tattered it looked, it obviously had enough business to lure Momo inside. But instead, the adolescent refused and shook her head, "That would be Mr. Urahara. He's in the back. I could go get him if you want, Ms. Hinamori."

"Would you please?"

Ururu pardoned herself before dispelling from the outer portion of the shop, to disappear in the back behind a set of double sliding doors. Leaving Rukia to wander aimlessly, inspecting the goods on each and every shelf, and the artifacts in the corners "Hell Momo, how did you find this place?"

Momo laughed, and circled around the shelf to meet Rukia in the middle, "Word of mouth. That's how they get their business. No fancy ads, no newspaper ads. This is just, someone's house, and that _someone _happens to be damn good at what he does." She extracted a jar from atop a shelf beside Rukia's head, and brought it up to her eyes. Inside, a lizard, obviously dead and submerged into some kind of mysterious yellowing liquid. Rukia scoffed in disgust of the grotesque creature and took the jar from Momo to place back on the shelf. She didn't even _want _to know what ailment _that'd _cure.

"Ah," a man's voice emerged from the back of the store, and loud, clicking footsteps soon followed. A man hurled himself out from behind the doors and smiled, his grin filled his entire face, or the portion that Rukia _could see_. To her, he looked to be no more than a man, walking on a cane— which Rukia thought he wouldn't even need because of how young he appeared. His hair is blonde and falls right above his shoulders, and he's cloaked in a green garb with a matching bucket hat that shadowed his face, and wooden clogs that clattered loudly against the floor. To her, he was an odd shopkeeper. But to Momo, this man was a prophet.

"If it isn't Ms. Hinamori," he bellowed, pleased by her presence, "welcome back! And you've brought me company! Two beautiful ladies in my shop, what a lovely day!"

"Mr. Urahara! This is my friend, Rukia—"

Rukia tried her hardest not to cringe when Momo involuntarily introduced her to the shady man who she had no hopes to get to know. "We just returned from the park together! I was hoping you'd have some more natural detox?"

"But _of course _I do, for if I hadn't, I'd lose you as a customer now wouldn't I? Follow me right this way," the man said, guiding Momo further apart from Rukia.

"You should get something to help you sleep Rukia," Momo suggested kindly from afar. The man swiveled on his clogs and pointed his cane up at Rukia, "Ah, insomnia troubles?"

"Well I— I mean I," Rukia babbled nervously, rubbing her neck just as Byakuya would in an awkward situation, "I work late, I mean, I work night shifts and...yeah, I could use some sleep. I get about three or four hours a day at most, honestly."

"Oh, lack of sleep for too long could take a hard toll on you, dear. But don't you worry, I've got just what you need! Just as soon as I get Ms. Hinamori here her detox."

Rukia nodded her head without further a word, she rubbed the prickling skin of her bicep, and roamed the store further. She looked upon shelves, upon shelves, upon shelves. In jars with labels and simple words describing incenses, elixirs, _potions_, and oils. If you ask her being here felt more like being in one of those old "voodoo" shops, or shops dedicated to witchcraft. Rather than a medicine shop or— whatever it was, at this point, she had no idea herself.

Rounding the corner of an old shelf, she jumped in appall, gasping and bringing her hand to her chest. She'd come face to face with another living thing, a sleek, hot black cat with eyes that pierced her like golden daggers. It sat immobile atop one of the shelves, except for it's tail that swung side to side, to show Rukia that it had in fact been alive. It stared at her, for several seconds, and then jumped down from its place on the shelf and brushing itself against Rukia's legs, began to circle her ankles.

"I see you've met Yoruichi," Mr. Urahara sniggered quietly, fanning himself with a thin white fan in the hand that hadn't been holding his cane. "It looks like she likes you."

"I have a cat of my own, so, she might've picked up his smell on me," Rukia suggested.

"Your own cat, eh? And for how long have you had him?" He asked as he slipped past her to look upon the shelves. Engaging in small talk was one of Rukia's _few _weaknesses, socializing in general had not been a strong point of hers unless it was with someone she's known, or is comfortable with. "Um," she hesitated, "twelve years now."

"Twelve years! What a remarkable life he must be living," Mr. Urahara teemed with grin and picked a small sauced from off the shelf, examining it closely. "I myself have had Yoruichi for..._many more years than I can count_."

Creepy. Rukia shuddered from the chill that's stricken her body and seeped into the core of her spine. She's only had experiences like that with her brother-in-law, when Byakuya would meddle or yell at her, such aggressiveness from him would send chills down her spine. But a stranger, calmly speaking to her with kindness and respect, has given her indescribable icy cold shocks of discomfort. Or perhaps, it was the place itself. She wonders if Momo felt like this upon her first time visiting. There's something very very peculiar about this place.

And she could not wait to leave from it.

"I've got it," Mr. Urahara announced proudly. He shuffled toward Rukia on clogs and cane and handed her the small saucer shaped dish filled with pale wax, and a wick sticking out from the middle. To her it looked to be nothing more extravagant or interesting than a homemade candle, "Burn this at night, right before you go to bed. Set it beside your bed, and you'll be right to sleep, I guarantee!"

"Thank you," Rukia replied darkly, she bowed her head in appreciation and rushed to find Momo at the front counter to check out. There a young man, about the same age as the girl, Ururu, stood and calculated Momo's order. "You found something?" Momo interrogated, she stared curiously at the item in Rukia's hand. Rukia hadn't even answered, she just nodded her head and waited patiently to be checked out next.

The male behind the counter looked roughly at Rukia with his dark eyes, before examining her product, and preparing her purchase. He reminded her a bit of Renji, by his hair being as brightly saturated red. Only his was short and slicked back, and Renji's was long, and poured down his back. Her final price was said, and she paid the man his money and received her change in full. "Come again," Urahara waved his cane at the ladies just before they'd given him their final farewells and disappeared from inside the shop. Outside, Rukia seemed, _rushed_. She'd even beat Momo to her own car, in a run that would've been more than satisfactory if it were done on the track, rather than from the shop's front step.

Finally, inside the car she could catch her breath. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back against the head rest of the passenger side seat, "Are you okay," Momo inquired, obviously concerned.

"That place...that man...they gave me the creeps," Rukia shivered. She held both her forearms out in front of her and examined the raised skin on both, each of them covered in tiny prickly goosebumps, her hair raised, "Shit, look at this!"

"You have a weird thing about 'negative energy' y'know that, Rukia?" Momo teased the woman nonchalantly. She buckled herself in safely and began her car, "First your house steals your brother's positive energy, now this little shop's giving you chills. You should become a ghost whisperer or something."

~X~

It's late, and thankfully, Rukia hadn't had to work today. Even if she did, she doubted she'd had enough energy in her body's reserves to make herself go in. She hugs Momo and bids her farewell, telling her to be safe and "goodnight", when she herself hasn't the slightest clue if she'll even _survive _climbing up the stairs of her building to reach her apartment. One step feels like a hundred, two, feel like a thousand, but it will be many more until she reaches the third floor to get to her door.

Her journey up ends with a loud relieved sigh, she's alive, strangely enough. Her legs are numb, gelatin beneath her, she smells of sweat, and she's so tired she's seeing double. The only thing she wants to do now, is sleep, and she's positive that at the point she's at now, the candle won't be necessary to achieve it.

Once her door's unlocked, she stands in its frame, still as if awaiting something, but nothing comes. It isn't until she turns in to close her door that she feels the familiar softness of fur touch her leg, and it's Ichigo up and active. He bounces back on his hind legs, and scratches gently on Rukia's legs, as if...as if he wants to be picked up. Which is odd of him, Ichigo never liked being lifted, not even when he was a kitten. But she complied to his wishes.

She dipped down low despite the pain in her lower back, and scooped her furry partner up off the ground. Stretched, from his head which rested on Rukia's shoulders, all the way down to his feet he'd reached past her waistline, and his tail, even farther. Rukia pushed the door closed with her foot, and locked it behind her, "Oh Ichigo...I'm so tired." Ichigo flicked his ear, brushing against her cheek before it flattened atop his own head once more, "I'm just glad you're okay."

He ran his rough tongue against her face, lapping up against it over and over, and over. "Gross," Rukia laughed, "stop it Ichigo! I'm all sweaty and gross, and that tickles." She placed him back on the ground at her feet, and lifted the bottom her shirt to wipe her face and mumble into it, "You're so weird..."

A quick shower. Rukia threw her day's clothes into the bin in the tiny laundry room, upon her body were clothes fresher and nicer smelling. _She _was nicer smelling. She smelled of blossoms and cherries, Byakuya's two favorite things and a scent that Ichigo quite liked. She could tell because of how he'd rub against her whenever she'd used this soap. She hissed in pain whilst limping back into the living room, her legs tight and her muscles burning and sore, until she crumble— first to her knees, and then finally, on her side against the floor.

Lying down she felt pained, not tired. She was achy and _moany_ and _groany_, and anything but sleep was on her mind. She thought about Momo, and how she'd never _ever _agree to the suicide that was exercising with her _ever _again. And then, she remembered. The candle.

Rukia pushed herself up from the floor again, traveling once more to the kitchen where she'd placed the candle in its bag on the counter. She took it and disposed of the brown paper bag, keeping the candle carefully in her grip. The skeptical thought of whether or not it would work hadn't been on her mind now as it was then and in the car on the way home. She was zombified, a hollow version of herself, lurking in her kitchen and pulling open the drawer that she kept her lighter in. She took it, and the candle, and ignited the wick with a tiny flame.

Replacing the lighter back in its drawer, she went to return to the floor, careful not to drop the small candle. She set it close, but not too close to her pillow, and tucked herself beneath her blankets, with Ichigo at her side. Resting her head on her pillow, she stared at the iridescent flame, turning shades of blue and red and orange before her eyes, and the room's air filled with gentle fragrance of lavender essence. "_Don't...touch...the flame...Ichigo_," she slurred mindlessly. Her eyes, flickering before the flame disappeared, and her world is engulfed in black. Rukia succumbs to a deep, comfortable slumber. A slumber, in which she's never experienced before. Gentle, and peaceful.


	8. Chapter 6: Relief

**GATA!**

**CHAPTER SIX **:: **RELIEF**

* * *

Slowly, her eyelids peeled back, revealing to her, the new light of day. A fresh new start in which she could get up— and actually well rested. In fact, _very _well rested! Her body is no longer aching, her head is clear, her eyes aren't groggy when she looks over to find Ichigo fast asleep beside her. Looks like it worked for the both of them.

However, Ichigo was still asleep, and she would not wake him, because he needed it as much as she did.

Rukia gently peeled away at the blankets covering her, and slipped off of the mat to avoid shaking him in any way. Once freed, she stood to her feet and stretched, her back popped in response, and she expressed a heavy sigh of relief from tenseness. "My God," she murmured slightly, "that guy knew what he was talking about."

She felt brand new, fresh out of the box and ready to take on the Earth and all of its challenges. It's an odd feeling, considering that she has _always _felt tired or unenergized, the feeling of bliss almost convinced her that she'd, somehow, been reborn.

She floated back further into the apartment, a pep in her step and a cheer in her hum, until, she entered the room. It was today that she realized just how disorganized this place truly was, and how much she _hated _disorganization. But she was feeling up to the part to change that, so why not give it a go? She skipped back to her phone and scooped it up off the ground to enter her pass code and contacts, and then, she froze.

Who would she call?

She knew for a fact Momo was a strong candidate! She'd be here in no time in fact, and there was no question that the heavy lifting necessary to move parts would be an easy thing. But there was so much more than just the bedroom, the couches for the living room, the table, it would take just the two of them almost the entire day to complete the task of shaping this place up.

Renji came to mind, he'd been offering for almost a year now, so why not? Those two are more than enough help! And so, she called, and prepared herself for the speech necessary to persuade her allies to travel to her home, and add a bit of interior design to the place.

And first, was Momo.

The phone rang for a bit, nothing out of the ordinary when it came to calling Momo, since she was always doing something. But finally after the course of two or three rings, Momo answered, breathy, "Hello?"

"What are you doing?" Rukia asked before all else, curious to know the state of being Momo was currently in to be so out of breath. "Just finishing up running," Momo exhaled. Of course. "Oh my God—"

"What? What is it?" Rukia buzzed in concern, "What's wrong?"

"You're _awake_," Momo uttered in complete disbelief, "there's still actually daylight outside! Did Ichigo have to wake you up again?"

"Actually, he's still asleep. I woke up myself this morning. God Momo, I feel _amazing_! That place, that man worked some kind of magic into that candle. I think I'm going to stop by there and get another one before the day is over." She was losing track of their conversation, her mind reeling to bring up the true subject of the matter before she lost it in small talk about candles or _magic stores_, "Actually Momo, I called to ask you a favor."

"Uhuh?"

"If you're not busy later, would you mind dropping by and, well, helping me set up the place? Not everything if you don't want to! Just main components like my bed, the couches—"

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes," Momo blew through steady courses of breathing, and in an amazingly quick response as well. "Let me run home and get in the shower and I'll be right there."

"Really? Wow, thanks—"

"If it gets you and your _man_ from sleeping on the floor, I don't mind. Besides, I think Ichigo deserves a nice bed to sleep on."

"_Thanks_," Rukia retorted sarcastically, "I'll see you in a bit then."

Once she ended the call, a sigh of relief met with her lips and escaped into the air. She prepared to call Renji, walking into the kitchen to search for things edible for breakfast. Glancing at the time to see, just how early "daylight" is. 9:23AM— her breath escaped in a dramatic gasp, my God this is the earliest she's _ever _waken up on her own schedule! She's so awestruck in fact, that she barely notices Renji has answered her call, "Hey? Rukia?"

"R—Renji! Hey, hi, what's up?" Rukia collectively forms together a sentence from words that've rushed to her head all at once. She physically slaps herself on the head, kneading her forehead in self-loathe. Renji paused for a moment, and then replied slowly, "Nothing...are you okay? You sound different."

"Different? Like how?"

"Like...I don't know. You sound, like. _Alive_." Renji groaned darkly, a creaking sound following the sound of his movement, "And you're up earlier than me. I think you might be sick. Want me to take you to the hospital?" His voice changed to match his grin. Rukia sighed, irritated.

"If you're not busy. Would you come over, help me get some stuff together as far as furnishing—"

"Finally moving in, huh? A whole three years later!" Renji reciprocated with tease and a low groan, "You got it. I'm on my way."

"What— _now_?" Rukia countered in surprise.

"Yes, now. What's wrong with _now_?"

"Nothing, I mean. I just thought I'd take a shower first. Before Momo comes, and you'll definitely be here before she comes."

"Fine, fine, I'll stall a bit. Let me eat some breakfast and I'll be there in ten minutes or so." He compromised shortly before bidding his farewells, "See you in ten."

Even if she _had _wanted to retaliate with detest, she hadn't had the chance to do so before he'd hung up in her face. Like always. Renji was her least favorite person to speak to over the phone, simply because no matter what the conversation, he had the last word. Whether she wanted it, or not. She skipped breakfast to take a quick shower, Rukia. Hopping across the living room with discarded clothing in her path, starting with her shirt and ending with her panties, she entered the bathroom naked and kept the door slightly ajar to ventilate steam and heat.

She sang in the shower, a song of rejuvenation and good feeling. A song which she made up as she went, with words that didn't rhyme, and words that didn't make _sense_. All expressing the wonderful feeling she felt today, and how she'd like to feel this way forever. Steam from the shower rolled across the white tile floors and escaped through the door, who's crack grew until it was halfway open, and he visitor slipped in through the wide gap.

She'd heard the doors soft creak, even over her horrendous singing, and she stopped to investigate, pulling her shower's translucent sliding door aside so that she could look out into the bathroom. "Ichigo?" She cooed curiously, her only response being a quiet— _almost _'meow' from the animate cat. Rukia finished her shower with a final note of song, a soft hum, and cut the stream of water off completely before stepping out onto the cold tile, dripping wet and stark naked.

"You surprised me baby," she said, and brushed her body with a white towel to dry her skin, before wrapping it around herself like a short dress, "I thought you were asleep."

Ichigo sat down on the damp floor before Rukia's feet and there, he did not move. Rukia crouched to meet his face, and his eyes which had darkened, losing their amber-gold glow. Her heart cried out in woe, though her face refused to show it, nor had she expressed her sadness with anything more than a soft sigh, and she caressed his head lightly. "Everything's gonna be okay, Ichigo." She lied.

Everything would not be okay, and she knew, losing her best friend would absolutely crush her heart and spirit. But as long as it brings him relief from the pain he's in now, she can at least try and lie to herself. That everything, will be okay. And, maybe, it just might.

~X~

"Is the manual on that side, or—"

"I have it here," Rukia flashed the small booklet in her hand before Momo's eyes, and then turned it back to study its pages studiously, "do you need it?"

"Let me see it," Momo requested. She stretched to the far end of the bed— well, the bed's incomplete frame. Both women were on the floor with nuts and bolts spread out around them as they constructed the metal frame of Rukia's bed. Rukia slid Momo the construction manual, and picked up the allen wrench that lied beside her thigh to tighten continue assembling her part of the bed. "Jesus—" Momo griped, "what size bed _is this_?"

"A king," Rukia snorted, "I told Byakuya I hadn't needed a bed this size, but he insisted I'd 'grow into it'."

Both she and Momo laughed hysterically. The irony of the story being, Rukia has not grown more than a single inch since her freshman year in highschool. She is still the same four feet and eleven inches she came into highschool as a freshman being, and graduated no taller. This bed was big enough for at least _three _Rukias. Or one Rukia and an adult male. "You could definitely go find yourself a boyfriend now," Momo joked, "your bed's definitely big enough for it."

"Momo, I haven't dated in six years," Rukia scoffed in retort, "the last thing on my mind, is getting a boyfriend!"

"Six years!? What about senior year, didn't you go out with Kaien?"

"Nah. I didn't get the chance, before I found out that while he was 'talking' to me, he'd already had himself a pretty girl on the side."

Momo remembers _that _story well. She remembers how angry Rukia was, and how she'd almost blown a hole through her bedroom wall when talking about it. This had been when they were both teenagers, and Momo had come to spend the night at Rukia's house. Byakuya had to walk in on them and snap at Rukia for being so vicious, and Momo almost had to leave. She laughed at the brief reminder and squelched, "Remember how much Ichigo hated him?"

"Oh my _God_— Ichigo could not _stand _Kaien! But that went for all the men that approached me, even the mailman Ichigo didn't like!"

"Because! What guy wants to see their woman getting hit on by a stranger?" Momo topped Rukia's comment with joke and laughter. Rukia chuckled, soft and inaudible, just a hard breath from her nose. She bowed her head and continued to work on the column of her bed. "Is Ichigo okay by the way?"

"Huh," Rukia hesitated, "yeah, I. I uh? Why do you ask?"

"Well, I don't hear Renji screaming for his life in the living room," Momo replied, "Ichigo would've been _on that _by now."

"Yeah, he's just. He's getting old Momo." Rukia's remark came soft and subtle, "You should've seen him last night and this morning. He's moving so slow and it's like he's completely given up. I mean I guess...dying would be easier for him—"

"Don't say that," Momo snapped venomously, "how pessimistic! I say, how about after we finish your bed and go help Renji move the couches around and build your tv stand, we'll go back to Mr. Urahara's shop. And there, you can pick up your candles, and we can see if he has something that might help Ichigo."

"You think he'd have something for cats?"

"If not, he could definitely whip something up," Momo said, "medicines and potions and stuff, it's kinda his 'thing'. If we ask him, I think he'd be more than happy to comply and make something for Ichigo."

Rukia shrugged her shoulders, silent. Her pace in assembling her side of the bed had sped up to about twice as quick as the speed she'd been working before, and she helped Momo in finishing the other side, before they laid her mattress down carefully into the frame, and gave it a "bounce test". All this meant was that she and Momo both lied down on the mattress with all of their combined weight, and bounced up and down to see if the frame could support them and the mattress, and it proved to be a success.

They collectively began to dress Rukia's mattress, and laughed over a mini pillow fight which broke out when Momo hit Rukia with one of her pillows after dressing it in it's silk case. The bed was made, and Renji entered to assemble Rukia's TV stand, which had taken no longer than half an hour. With their combined teamwork, the trio had made Rukia's empty, lonely apartment, into something more dressed and elegant. All within the time frame of four hours! All she could see that was left to do was hang some pictures. But this, was a minor task that she could complete on her own, without their company.

"Whew," Momo huffed. She picked herself up from the ground, up from underneath the glass coffee table in which she had constructed with her own hands, and threw herself into the black couch that sat before it, "Done!"

"It actually looks like someone lives in here now," Renji addressed the newly decorated apartment, wiping sweat from his face with the neck of his dark black shirt. "Yeah," Momo agreed, "I gotta say, I _love _the rug! It goes so well with this carpet, and the walls? These couches are great. What took you so long to get all of this together Rukia?"

"Work. Exhaustion," Rukia spoke from the kitchen, as she poured Momo a glass of water, and took a bottle out for herself, "you want some water Renji?"

"Yeah, I'll get it," he responded flatly. Renji met Rukia in the kitchen, stopping at an alarmingly fast rate when stumbling upon the cat who lied on the ground beside the full food and water bowl. "Jesus," he hissed in surprise, "I almost forgot you had this guy! Has he been in here the whole entire time?"

Rukia glanced down to Ichigo, and then back up at Renji. Renji bent down, and surprisingly, he was able to put a hand on Ichigo without violent retaliation from the feline. All that Ichigo had down, was whip his tail, and then bring it back down to the ground. Renji brushed his hand down the fur of his neck, and pat Ichigo lightly on the belly, "This is the first time the jerk has actually let me touch him."

"Don't call Rukia's boyfriend a jerk," Momo yelled from the living room couch, "You guys ready to go? If we leave now we can grab some lunch and—"

"I can't," Rukia interrupted swiftly, "I have to go to work at six."

"It's one o'clock. You can have lunch for an hour, can't you?"

"You guys—" Renji started. He lifted his arm up to sneeze violently in the pit of his elbow and sniffle hard, "go ahead. I'm gonna go home and change and take a nap. I have work in a couple of hours too. And I've got..._cat _all over my shirt."

The thing about Renji and Ichigo was, Ichigo hated Renji, and Renji was— quite literally, though mildly, allergic to Ichigo. Ichigo, and all cats actually. He retreated back into the living room and to the door to exit into the outside, "I'll wash your shirt for you, " Rukia offered, "this way you're not sneezing and driving yourself off the road on the way home. Just throw it in the laundry room down the hall."

"Sure," Renji retorted dryly. He walked back into the apartment, stripping himself of the dark black shirt on the way around the corner to the laundry room. He peeled it off until his torso was left with nothing to cover it but a white wife beater, and he walked back into the living area. "I'll see you guys later."

"Bye Renji," Momo waved farewell to the man, and he waved back just as he crossed outside the door frame and closed it securely behind him. Rukia joined Momo in the living room, on the couch beside her— she handed her the cold cup of water, and then, threw her head back against the backboard. "I'm a mess, Momo."

"Tell me about it," Momo agreed just before drinking from the cool glass, "it's cool. We're all messes once you get down to the core of things."

"Do you think it's my fault Ichigo's sick? Maybe, I haven't been giving him much attention lately? With working and stuff."

"You saying you're gonna quit your job to pay attention to your cat, Kuchiki?"

"I'm _saying_—" Rukia emphasized, "that I feel like it's my fault he's dying like this."

"Everything dies Rukia. Time waits for no man. Or _cat_."

Rukia shrugged and closed her eyes slowly, sighing hard into the air, "_I hate working nights_."

"I keep telling you," Momo blurted, "apply at that theme cafe right down the street! I talked to the owner there once, she's super sweet. I told her I thought about applying, and she said that if she hired me, she'd start me off at a salary above minimum wage."

"Seriously?" Rukia turned her head in interest. Momo nodded, "Just, when you go there, ask to speak to Mrs. Inoue. She's there everyday, it's the cutest place. Remember? I took you there once."

Yes, in fact Rukia _does _remember the place. She remembers visiting there around the spring time, while the high schoolers were on spring break. The cafe was buzzing with life, all from teenage girls, super excited by the wait staff that had been dressed as prep-boys from some really popular shoujo manga. The theme of the cafe changes, by suggestion of the employees— Rukia had heard. It was a cool experience. Perhaps, working there wasn't such a bad idea. "I'll put in an application tomorrow," Rukia said.

"Why tomorrow?" Momo insisted, "Let's go there for lunch today. You can talk to the owner, and get an application, we'll kill two birds with one stone."

"Alright," Rukia agreed, "let's go then. On the way back, I wanna stop at that shop and see if there's anything the shopkeeper can do, about Ichigo..."

~X~

He's buzzing, and humming melodically with the rhythm which he chooses, as he dances around the artifacts of his shop. All the way to the bamboo doors which brought him to the back room where he lives. "Ururu! Jinta!" Mr. Urahara called out to his subordinates, "Tessai! Let's get the shop ready! It has to be in tip top shape for today's customers!"

"Since when has this place ever been in 'tip top' shape?" The red haired boy, Jinta, spat in retort. Ururu simply nodded her head obediently, and carried her sweeping outside of the room to the area where the shop's goods were displayed. The larger more robust man known as Tessai, intruded, unexpectedly, into the room, out from behind another set of doors which he quickly closed behind him. He righted his glasses upon his face, his expression as cold an serious as it's always been, or as far as anyone could tell. His brows were always knitted to make him look as if he has a scowl behind those foggy lenses. He was huge in proportion to Urahara himself, about two heads taller in size and musclebound. His hair was black, and braided in rows down the back of his head, and, as Mr. Urahara would say, he had a handlebar mustache that would be the envy of all mustaches everywhere.

"You heard Mr. Urahara," Tessai bellowed in his deep rumbling voice at Jinta, "get up and work, boy."

He didn't argue, Jinta. He simply did as he was told, begrudgingly, but obediently. He stood up from the floor, mumbling and grabbing a second broom from out the corner of the room before he left, and _attempted _to slam the sliding door shut behind him. "My my, what a live young boy he is." Urahara, fanning himself, pointed at the door with his cane, "Tessai would you be a dear and go out there to supervise? Make sure Jinta isn't bullying that poor Ururu and that he isn't slacking off?"

Tessai nodded, he left Mr. Urahara to the isolation of the backroom, closing the door gently behind him. Kisuke Urahara turned around in giddy, his arms thrown up in the air, leaving his cane to stand perfectly at his side without any support, "And _where_," he shouted to the top of his lungs, "is the beautiful Lady Yoruichi!?"

He'd stopped to yell at the side of the room with the _third _set of double doors in the wall, and dropped his hands back down, as he waited for a response. With his response came the gentle sound of feet walking, and the doors, slowly sliding open. From the bottom to the top, his emerald eyes peered out from the shadows beneath his bucket hat, and he covered half of his face with the fan, examining what was placed before him by God himself.

From the bottom, a feminine foot with nails painted black, ebony skin that bathed her exquisite legs and thickening thighs. Her hips and torso had been covered, by a lengthy black sweater, with the neck of the sweater rising up to cover her own. Her face was sharp and serious, beautiful, and seductive. With eyes golden and glowing in the opaque shadowing of the room which she unveiled herself from, her stunning violet hair, falling down her back and stopping at her thighs.

She stood at the door, with one hand on her hip whilst the other grasped the edge of the sliding door, to support herself where she stood, "Is all that yelling really necessary Kisuke?" She spoke, her voice dark and frigid cold. Kisuke chuckled, moving his fan out from in front of his face, "I made you come out from the shadows, didn't I?"

"What's gotten you so worked up anyway," Yoruichi questioned, intrigued by the man's radiant glow, "is it about those girls? They're coming back today aren't they?"

"Now you know the answer already, Yoruichi!"

"I don't see the future," she replied sharply. "But you can read my mind," Kisuke returned, "unless...your powers have worn off quicker than I predicted."

"Don't celebrate yet, Urahara. I'm _still _powerful. I've just declined a bit in power since you resurrected me from those ashes. I'm not nothing but your house cat, yet."

"Ah, but a man can dream, can't he," Kisuke sighed. He placed both his hands on his cane, lowering down to the floor so that he could sit comfortably at the small tea table in front of the television. "I wouldn't mind having a cat, knowing that once upon a time, she was a woman as lovely as yourself."

"_Mhm_," Yoruichi rolled her eyes, and stepped out from the cold dark room behind the wall. Keep dreaming. I'd do away with my own life and my _own _immortality if I'd been reduced to the role of 'domestic pet'."

"You know I'd never let that happen! Come. Sit."

Yoruichi complied with her partner's offer and came to sit on the ground across from Kisuke, across the table. "Tell me. The girl that was with Ms. Hinamori yesterday. What did you pick up from her?"

"She's stressed, overcome with fear that the one thing she loves is going to die soon," Yoruichi explained shortly. Kisuke raised his pale blonde brows, interested, "And that thing being—?"

"Her cat, you imbecile!" She hissed venomously at the teasing man, "Her cat is going to die, and she's going to be alone, _hopeless_, and that is why you see her returning to the shop. I think the girl is bad news Kisuke. She obviously sensed something while she was here yesterday. She's human, but she's got a keen feel for when there's a spiritual presence or shift around her. She could detect that she was in the presence of other-worldly beings, and I'm sure that's why she was uneasy."

"But of course! When there is a witch of your caliber wandering about there is bound to be some presence of power! Even I could feel it, buzzing off of your feline form!—"

"My power is _no where _near as strong as it was before I was burned at the stake! In fact, I've grown weak. That feline metamorphism is the only way I possess to suppress my power and remain undetected. That, and that dreadfully boring room."

"But I constructed that room exactly how I knew you'd like it," Kisuke pouted, exaggerating, "you don't mean to tell me it's _boring_?"

"You try spending all of your time in a single place all day everyday, and tell me if it doesn't tend to bore you," Yoruichi murmured.

"That's why you turn into a cat," he said, "to come out for fresh air every once in a while!"

"You're not funny, Kisuke."

"I know, but I'm hopeful," Kisuke stretched his arm across the table to take Yoruichi's hand into his own. He folded one of her hands beneath his own, enveloping it with his warmth, as he gently caressed the skin, "I promised you, I'd find a way to return you to your fully restored form. And I'm still working towards fulfilling my promise. Are you unsure of my ability?" Yoruichi shifted her gaze away from him, bringing her eyes to the farthest corner of the room to avert his pitiful stare. She slipped her hand back into her lap, and turned to face him once more.

"_No_," she replied darkly, and quietly.

"Then patience my beautiful lady! For patience is _key_ to perfection! An perfection, there will be."

A shattering collision of glass impacting with a solid medium erupted and soon filled the shop with it's sharp sound. Following it, came the enraged scolds from a young boy outside, "You _idiot_!" He yelled and yelled, and the undertone of his scolding being the peeping of a young girl's voice repeating: I'm sorry! I'm sorry! _I'm sorry_!

"Excuse me," Kisuke pardoned himself from Yoruichi's presence. He stood to his feet and extended his hand, his cane flying up from the ground and into his firm grasp immediately. The thundering of his clogs against the wooden ground rendered the room outside of the one he'd been in to silence, and he pushed the door to the side and hurled himself outward into the shop.

"M—Mr. Urahara." Ururu cried, her eyes glossy from welling tears, "I said I was sorry. I didn't mean to do it, I'll clean it up sir!"

"There there Ururu," Kisuke calmed the young girl with the velvet smooth of his voice, "it isn't _you _I've come out here to address."

"She broke a jar!" Jinta cried, "I told her not to be clumsy, and she bumped into the shelf and knocked it down! We don't know what was in that jar— it could be anything! There could be spores **infecting the air around us _right now_**!"

"Jinta," Tessai's _booming voice _shocked through the entire store as he called out to the young man, "calm yourself immediately! Your horns are beginning to sprout!"

Jinta ceased his yelling to feel atop his head with his fingers, rubbing along the sharp tips that'd began to protrude through his thick flesh. He felt his face which had been beginning to burn red, and his clothes which now have holes in them, singed at the edges, from contact with his fiery skin. He grunted, hard, sucking in as much fresh air as he possibly could to allow himself to be calmed. The horns which had began sprouting shrank back into his head, and his complexion lightening, "_Tch_! I'm gonna go change!" Jinta took himself, and his broom, to the back room of the store and again, attempted to slam the door behind him. He began to flare when he could not, and again, his transformation began to take place.

Immediately stopped with Yoruichi threw one of her shoes against the boy's head and demanded that he stop. He did, and he disappeared behind the doors on the side of the room opposite to her's.

"Now Ururu," Kisuke directed his attention back to the young girl, "I know it was an accident, but we can't have accidents like this happening all the time. Do you understand?"

Ururu nodded her head slowly in understanding. "Good," Kisuke said gingerly, "now that we have an understanding, I have a very important job for you!"

"Really?" She immediately perked in attitude, lifting to the occasion.

"Yes," Kisuke nodded, "a customer will come by today, Ms. Hinamori, and she's bringing her friend from yesterday—"

Ururu shook her head slowly while registering his words carefully.

"—the reason this woman will be coming by is because her pet is very sick! And he's also very old! Now, do you remember the potion I've been teaching you how to prepare? From the apprentice's beginner's book—"

"The age reversal elixir?"

"That's the one! I need you to go whip up a batch of that, and do it by the book! If you need help with any of the ingredients, please ask for help. I'm counting on you Ururu! So please make me proud!"

"I'll try— I mean. I will, Mr. Urahara." Ururu bowed her head and continued to sweep the broken shards of glass on the floor. Kisuke took the broom from her hands gently, patting her on the shoulder to urge her to abandon the mess, "I'll take it from here," he said. He stared at the mess of glass and liquid on the floor, and the shards began to quiver. The liquid which had seeped into the wooden planks, lifted in droplets of perspiration which collected into a common mass and the shards collected and fit themselves around the liquid, the edges matching perfectly with one another, to reconstruct the jar and its content as if the accident never occurred. Once repaired, Kisuke reached down to take the hovering object into his hand, and place it on the shelf just below his shoulder level, where it had been before it was knocked down.

"That poor sweet angel," Tessai spouted softly, as Ururu disappeared behind the doors and left the men in the store to converse among themselves. Kisuke glanced over his shoulder at the man and his statue still state, and shook his head side to side slowly, "She's a good girl, Tessai. She's just got some time before she finds her way, and when she does well...I'll be out of one_ damn good_ apprentice..."

* * *

A/N: So this chapter, you see a little bit of action in the store! Next chapter, you'll definitely see more, a little more Ururu than the others. I'm not going to be the one to spoil the surprise in the notes however!

Here you kinda get to learn a little bitty teensy bit about some of these amazing characters. Yoruichi being the witch (and the black cat so ironically huehue), Kisuke the "shadow man" of sorts— you'll learn more about him as the story goes on, as well as the others! Jinta is a devil, who's bad temper causes him to flare up sometimes an expose his devilish features, and Ururu, an angel.

I'm going to keep Tessai's role a secret until it comes up in question further along in the story. And trust me, it will! I've given the pasts of these characters some life, and it'll turn up later in the story. I hope you enjoy! Till next update!


	9. Chapter 7: The Clumsy Apprentice

**GATA!**

**CHAPTER SEVEN **:: **THE CLUMSY APPRENTICE**

* * *

"Hello Lady Yoruichi," Ururu greeted the woman where she sat, in the same place Kisuke left her, in the same dark sweater. The only difference being that now instead of listening to the man talk to her, she'd had the small aged television in the corner turned on, and a bowl of ramen the size of a wok in her possession. Yoruichi turned away from the television, her cheeks full and puffy and round. She slurped up the remaining bit of dangling noodle into her mouth and swallowed, clearing her throat to greet the girl appropriately, "Hello there Ururu. Are you looking for something."

"No ma'am," Ururu shook her head in denial, "I'm going into the laboratory room. So if you don't mind, I'll only take a second..."

"Go on right ahead," Yoruichi insisted, "I'll turn the television down so you can concentrate."

Ururu bowed in thanks and rose to the occasion of entering the laboratory, a task in which she has not performed in quite some time, since Urahara's main job is usually to make the elixirs that fill the shop. But just the simple fact that he's entrusted her with the task of making a potion— makes her scream inwardly, ecstatic that she's been given another chance to prove herself. To be the very best apprentice she can possibly be, alongside Jinta.

She inhaled calmly, flattening the palm of her hand on the wall and closing her eyes. The silence of the room allowed her the appropriate focus needed to concentrate on the challenge at hand. The portion of the wall in which she touched began to emit a radiant glow which filled the room and shone through all the other doors. Ururu drew her hand away from the wall, and traced the shape of a large square with her finger against it, leaving in her digit's path, a thin electric blue line that burned into the wood. It pulsated slightly, and from the wall grew another set of sliding doors. She quickly opened them, and stepped into the new room necessary for her productivity.

Once inside the room, the doors behind her began to gradually close, disappearing back into the store's original wall and send out bursts of extravagant blue light once more, before clearing. And leaving Yoruichi, to increase the volume on the television, and continue enjoying her meal in privacy.

The laboratory. A medium sized space with walls towering as high as ten stories, the entire room and all its walls are covered in books and in the center of the room is a small table and stool. She managed to open the portal to bring her here, which was the first step. Now the second step, was finding the book, which would list the ingredients needed to make what was requested of her.

Its location was exact, in alphabetical order— in the greek alphabet. It was several hundred feet up from the ground and jotting out farther than the other books, and it was right in her sights. She sighed again, squeezing her lips tightly shut into a thin lugubrious line as she tried to focus all of her energy on a single task— and from the planes of her back, exploded a small pair of feathery white wings through her shirt.

They were petite wings, small in proportion to the rest of her body and wispy. Above her head, the outline of a circle burned in the air, and a golden halo sat hovering above her dark locks. She stretched to the tips of her toes, her wings flapping wildly to bring her the leverage she desperately needed to make her trip to the high shelf. She jumped lightly, and landed back on the soles of her feet.

She jumped higher, her wings, opening and closing wider, and this time, she hovered only feet from the ground for several seconds— and crashed back down. This time, landing on her backside rather than her feet.

It was the same as watching a baby bird make its attempt at first flight, Ururu puffed out her lips in pout, and exhaled through her nostrils. She glared at the book in envy of it's height from the ground, and then, she lowered her head and sighed in defeat. She'd had to suffice for the ladder, _again_.

Ururu took the ladder from the corner, rolling it on its wheels to lean against the book case. The trip up consisted of a full five minutes, before she'd reached the elevation in which the book was, just not the exact location. It took a full arm's reach to even _brush _the tip of her fingers against the cover of the book, and even then she always pulled back to grab hold of the ladder. With every ounce of power contained inside of her small body— she would _not _look down. _  
_

She was absolutely mortified of heights.

Again she batted at the book, attempting to extract it from its place until— success! Except, she didn't catch it. The enormous object broke wind as it plummeted to the ground met the floor with incredible force. So much so it shook the ladder, and the glass vials on the table. Ururu took a deep breath, and began her trip back down the enchanted ladder, which slowly began to shrink the lower she climbed, until it became nothing more than a step ladder when she finally reached the bottom.

She tucked the ladder back into its corner, and retreated to lift the book from the ground. Hugging it with both her arms to pick it up, steady. Lumbering over to the table, so that she may lie it down in the center where a space had been cleared out for it, and she climbed up onto the stool to situate herself before it.

"Okay then, let's see..." She opened the cover of the book and unleashed a small spark of magic from the first page, a small rod of light that shot up and quickly disappeared in the oxygen. From there, she kept turning pages, skimming her finger down the lines of the table of contents, and taking to turning each page until she found the appropriate one— aha! _Age reversal_!

"Fill the beaker half way with_...fresh spring water_...brought to a low simmer...okay..." Ururu, reciting the procedure printed in the book out loud, reached for one of several glass beakers and fit it carefully over the bunsen burner on the table. She ignited the small flame beneath the glass, and pushed back away from the table to retrieve the first ingredient from it's place on another shelf. A glass bottle labeled "spring water" that was low enough for her to reach, she took it, and removed the cork. Following the directions and filling the glass over the burner half way with the water.

"Okay," she breathed softly, "this is easy. Alright, next step is, two drops of venom from the atheris hispida...atheris hispida...A..." Ururu located the ingredient in the smallest vial on the shelf, taped with a red label and it's name. She placed it on the table, continuing to read the ingredients she would find and collect while she waited for the water to reach said "low simmer".

"Two hosta roots and one ounce of elephant tusk, ground.—"

She looked up from the book to find, her water over boiling. It dripped over the edge of the glass and down its sides, some of it falling into the flame while most of it evaporated into the air. "Oh _crap_!" She worked feverishly to kill the burner's flame, and calm the water's aggressive boil to a softer, rolling boil. A calm boil is the same as a simmer...right?

Regardless, she carefully extracted the venom from its vial with an eyedropper, and eyeballed two small drops into the water in its boiling stage. Next, hosta root. She screwed the lid off the next jar, removing bunches of the scraggly root and carefully pulling from it only two, dropping that too into the glass and boiling water. Next is, ground elephant tusk...

One ounce. She measured carefully, adding and removing until given exactly a single ounce of the ingredient, which she then dumped inside the concoction and stirred with a long glass rod. She watched in awe at the liquid inside, which changed in color from clear, to light blue, and then pale green. And then she proceeded to skim her finger across the page and read every word following in the procedure except—

She hadn't been reading the procedure. She'd been going down the list of the ingredients and adding them without proper order.

Her eyes widened in terror, the most fear anyone— if anyone were there— would ever see in her. And she hurried along the page to the procedure section, and scanned the directions carefully. Bring the water to a simmer...okay...

This book was so god damn _confusing_! In the ingredients section she could've sworn it gave her the directions and the list in order of what she should add, when she should add it...oh God.

Maybe she lucked out! Maybe she added everything in the right order on accident? Maybe. Upon reading the directions she thought hard to remember the order in which she added each one, and emitted a high and sharp cry into the air before burying her face in the book's spine. As time stretched, she looked down again to read the procedure in terror: heat venom from atheris hispida for two minutes, and _then_ add hosta root, and allow mixture to heat for exactly six minutes, whilst bringing the water to a boil. _Exactly_ six minutes? Six minutes!? Has it been six minutes!?

Did it take six minutes for her to collect all of the other ingredients? And if so, was she supposed to add the other ingredients _after _exactly six minutes?

Yes, yes, it says so in the book. After six minutes, remove root...

Ururu hurried to extract the root from the concoction, with her bare fingers She hissed in pain at the sting of the heat and dropped the root onto the table, shaking the pain out of her fingers. Add elephant tusk next, then remove from heat. Allow mixture to cool for three minutes, then put back on the heat and stir for two minutes.

She worked rapidly to kill the flame on the burner and carefully remove the beaker with the tongs, placing it on the table in front of her. Okay, so she added the tusk, and the rest of the directions read...one dried crushed black beetle wing added while mixture is being stirred, and heated for one minute.

There was so much boiling and cooling and boiling again, the instructions were making her head spin absolutely out of control! How could anyone do this so many times? Kisuke Urahara was a true genius, that's for sure. Ururu receded from the table to scan the shelf for...black beetle wing. About a minute into her search, she located the vial containing the wings and carefully extracted a single wing. This way, she would already have the ingredient prepared so she could simply add it whilst stirring as the directions called for.

She searched the table for the bowl and pestle, throwing her arms over the book to grab the items once they were found, and in the process, spilling over a foreign purple liquid from another beaker.

The purple fluid spilled onto the table and raced down to the edge, panicked, she turned on the stool— and in the process of her quick action she also spilled over the very potion she was working on herself. Green and purple mix on the table and together, they create a very cool toned and unattractive brown. She quickly grabbed the glass beaker from the table and put it under the edge to catch the liquid that fell, collecting most, but not all of it. Some had gone wasted on the very nice red carpet after all.

How long has it been? She hurried and placed the glass back on the burner to heat it once again, and in the bowl she tossed the wing to crush it with the pestle. After a while, maybe two minutes, probably less, she dumped the crush wing into the fluid, and stirred relentlessly, several times with the glass rod, until it changed to a darker almost cobalt blue color.

Is this what it's supposed to look like? Her mind was racing so fast and out of control, the words on the page began to float and flip, switch places and completely disappear. She was having an anxiety attack as she spoke, breathing smoothly to keep control of her mind and body. She squeezed her eyes shut, counted to ten, and opened them again. Now.

Take the potion off the heat and allow to cool for thirty minutes while constantly stirring. Strain the potion to collect bits of beetle wing, and place back on the heat for ten minutes, or until potion changes color.

But changes color to _what_? It was already a dark, unfamiliar blue. And inside this clockless room— she was losing track of the time, not knowing when the next minutes— or even second, came! It was already in ruins for her, "I'll just...start over!" She pushed up and away from the table to run back to the shelf with the ingredients, and realized—

She spilled all that was left of the venom. Without that, there _was _no do-overs. Her heart sank to the pit of her stomach, she wanted oh so desperately to cry. She failed. She failed Mr. Urahara. She failed as an apprentice, and she failed Jinta.

All she could do now, was pray, and wait...

~X~

With an entire forty minutes gone by in the silent room, Ururu lied her head on the table, on her arm while her other arm was up and actively stirring the potion around on the heat. It had changed color twice already, from Blue, to purple, and then, back to blue before she could remove it from the heat. Maybe this was supposed to be what it's like? She doesn't know.

Finally, once cooled, she bottled the potion and securely sealed it, lifting it up to examine it carefully. She swished the bottle two times counter clockwise, just to examine it, although _this _particular action had surprisingly enough, not been in the procedure. And with a final sigh, she moved away from the table for the last time, and towards the double doors on the dark wooden wall betwixt bookshelves.

Opening these doors brought light in which she could not see through to other side, and she stepped out the door, and into the room where Yoruichi one was. How much time did she spend in the lab? An hour? Two? She had not known at this point, all she knew, was that she would have some explaining to do to Kisuke about—

"Finally—" Jinta exploded into the room, furious as it appeared on his face, and in the tone of his voice. He stamped across the ground towards Ururu and she immediately ducked into her shoulders, "Where the hell have you been!? We've been waiting for you for like— _ten minutes_! You _know _the lab won't occupy more than one soul— and you took _forever_!"

"I'm sorry," Ururu cried, "I mean it. I didn't mean to be so long..."

"Where is it?" He questioned. She stood silently, her hands bound behind her back as she was condemned to silence, her lips sealed. Jinta snatched both her arms away from her body and stole the potion out of Ururu's hand before she had the seconds needed to object or fight back. "W—wait! Stop!" She finally shouted.

Jinta burrowed into her very soul with his heinously dark eyes and burning scowl. She swallowed hard, and opened her mouth to speak, but the words refused to come out her body.

"Whatever," Jinta snorted, "you're taking forever. Say whatever you have to say when I come back! Just stay in here, your wings are showing. Pull yourself together, and _then _you can come out and talk to me if you really need to."

He was right, her angelic powdery white wings were still in plain sight, jutting out from her back and shirt. She looked back to them and gasped, turning her head back to speak towards Jinta— except, he'd already left.

She failed, she failed to make a simple beginner potion, and then failed to report her flaw. And now, because of her, she had no idea what the woman who was about to purchase the creation would encounter when used. With all of her might, every ounce of her focus, she squeezed her eyes closed and fought to retract her wings, and make her halo evaporate from sight. Yes, yes she did it! And then she ran to the door, slid it open and—

And, she froze.

The store was, empty of the two women, Ms. Hinamori and her friend Rukia.

All those who were left now were patrons of the shop, Tessai, Kisuke, Jinta, and the black cat Yoruichi.

"Ururu?" Kisuke addressed her with inquisition, "What's the matter? You look so pale."

Ururu parted her lips to breathe, to speak, to make a sound, _any _sound. Her vision faded to dark, her mind completely erased of all worries. All troubles, gone. She was completely energiless, and completely shut off from anything outside of herself.

And her heavy body collapsed to the cold hard ground beneath her feet.


	10. Chapter 8: Please Don't Die

**GATA!**

**CHAPTER EIGHT **:: **PLEASE DON'T DIE**

* * *

All throughout her shift Rukia couldn't help but fret inwardly of the pending issue taking place at her home. The condition of her cat Ichigo is only worsening, and instead of being at home taking care of him, she's at work forcing herself to look pleasant, and _trying _to give each and every customer checking out a pleasurable experience. She feels confident however. She's got the solution to her problem in her apartment, on the kitchen counter, in a brown paper bag. Not only the solution to her insomnia, but hopefully, a cure for whatever ails Ichigo, in the form of blue fluid in a small glass bottle.

She remembers the directions the young man behind the register gave to her whilst handing her the bag:

_Have him drink half of this, you'll need to give it to him from a syringe. If he's not showing signs of improvement, give him the rest in the morning._

She remembers the events in meticulous order, from entering the cafe, speaking to the owner and filling our an application. _Exactly _what she ordered, and even exactly what Momo ordered— the conversation they had on the way home in the car, and arriving at her apartment to give Ichigo a sort of "pep talk". Something more along the lines of: _Don't die while I'm at work. Please don't die, don't die while I'm at work_.

And now she's here, after a quick nap and getting dressed and ready for work, she's spent exactly four hours stocking shelves in the store. Bending over and hunching over, straining her legs and back to pick and lift and stack grocery items. Once the final can of string beans is placed on the shelf in the appropriate isle and the appropriate section, she cracks her back and pushes her cart back to the end of the store.

"Yo—" She hears a familiar voice call out and immediately she turns to acknowledge the person. He's a young man she'd gone to school with, a tall and lean man with messy black hair and tattoo on his arms, not visible under the sleeves of his white sweater but visible whenever he stretched and showed his skin. He had piercings in both his ears, silver and some were spikes while others were hoops and everything from his cartilage to his tragus was punctured and filled with some kind of metal.

Although he had the full blown appearance of what some would call a "bad boy", Hisagi Shuuhei was in fact, a bashful and friendly man with good morals as far as most things go. "You still stockin' shelves?"

Rukia blinked, she glanced at her empty cart, and then back up at him as he made his approach, "Does it look like I have anything in my cart?"

"Whoa— how about relaxing a little bit? Sorry if I'm bothering you—" He threw his hands up in a sort of "surrender" gesture, and took a couple of baby steps back away from Rukia. She sighed and rolled her neck around to try and loosen her tense muscles, "No, my bad. I'm sorry Shuuhei. I just...I got a lot on my mind..."

"Everything okay? Is it family matters?"

"_Kinda_?"

"Well— you definitely don't have to explain those kinds of things to me. I know how that all goes. But hey, I wanted to come wish you good luck! I heard you were applying or another job, I hope the pay's better than this place.—"

"How'd you hear that?"

"Hanatarou told me," Hisagi sniggered, "the guy's torn up about it. Says he's gonna miss you, came into the employee break room whining and crying. But like I said, good luck to you! I'll see you around, Kuchiki." He pat Rukia softly on the back, and jogged in a different direction from her position. _Hanatarou_.

She tells the guy one thing and he goes to tell— the whole employee break room!? Good grief. She's not going to miss the gossip around this place amongst co-workers, that' for sure. There's way too much of it, and way too little work being done because of it. _Just two more hours_, she said to herself inwardly, and proceeded to push the cart down the lonely path that awaited her.

She couldn't imagine being stuck working _here _for the rest of her life. Sure there were a few of her co-workers who she considered friends, but none in particular that she would want to "hang out" with outside of work.

Hisagi was an exception. He was sweet, although he was clueless. She wouldn't mind maybe spending a day with him if it were a _quiet _day. Maybe a movie. Not a date in particular, she wasn't very fond of dating, nor had she wanted to pursue a relationship with him after he made it very clear that he _hated _cats. And that, is the same exact reason, as she's told Momo once before, that she doesn't see herself being compatible with Renji. Especially because, not only does he _dislike _cats, he dislikes Ichigo. And, he's allergic.

Oh my God.

Is she seriously depending her compatibility with people solely on whether they like cats or not? "_I am a crazy cat lady_," she mumbled quietly to herself. She'll die like this, alone with her cat. And possibly with more than one, if this medicine doesn't work, and Ichigo _does _die.

But she won't think like that. Ichigo's not going to die, not when she had "the magic man's" medicine in her possession. He cured her once incurable insomnia, so she has faith in his creations! The only question now, was will Ichigo have showed improvement by the time she returns home? Hopefully. It scares her to have to think that she's afraid of letting him sleep, for the fear of him not waking up is far too great for her to ignore.

But right now, Momo was at her apartment watching him, just as she's offered to do. And Rukia is thankful to have such a concerned and thoughtful friend. The fact that she has yet to have received a call from Momo is a positive thing though, in Rukia's mind. Maybe this means, he's in good shape, so there's no need to call her. Yeah. That's totally it.

Right now all that mattered is that she'd have to survive another—

She checked her watch.

Hour and forty five— forty _three _minutes until she can go home and take Momo off "night duty". And then she could sleep on her nice new comfortable bed. Yeah.

She was definitely looking forward to that.

~X~

It's nearly twelve o'clock midnight, Rukia would be home soon, as she told Momo about an hour ago. To pass the time, Momo is using Rukia's cable to watch exercise programs— not too participate, but rather to laugh at just how _ridiculous _everyone on this show looks in their froot-loop skin tight leotards. It was like watching an exercise video from the eighties, an old person in the front leading a group of younger people whilst being dressed like a tropical bird, bound to take flight.

She lied back against the couch, a half-empty bottle of water in one hand, and the remote in the other. On the far end of the couch, Ichigo lied prostrate and soundlessly, sleeping she assumed. In the dark they both looked like a bunch of lazy oafs, with the light of the tv melting on their bodies. She finally stood up with a strained groan and stretched her body, walking off to the bathroom.

Momo flicked the light switch with the side of her hand and found herself in the mirror. She pressed her fingers against her face, and tugged her skin downward lightly. She played with her chocolate brown hair, and rustled it with her fingers, raking it forward, and then pushing it back again. She turned to her side, to examine her profile in the mirror, and then her butt. "_Damn_," Momo purred at herself, she grabbed a handful of her round bottom in her jeans and squeezed, "_T__ight_."

She turned back to her front and lifted her shirt half way to examine her abdomen. The flat firm surface of tight skins and visible planes of her abs, her small silver simple navel ring. She leaned her back forward and poked her pelvis out in the front to create the effect of wrinkles in her stomach, and played with the layers of skin like fat.

"Hey baby," she mouthed, deepening her voice to act as if she were another person entirely while she parted the folds she made in her stomach with every word, like a mouth on her abs. "Come here often?—"

"—No, it's just a friends house," Momo said again, except her voice is now back to normal and she's straightened her head and body, "I'm just, watching her cat..."

How powerful would that line of seduction be? She'd have men lining up around the corner for sure, no question about it. "Just watching her cat. That's all."

"_You got a boyfriend_?" She asked her reflection in the mirror, again in a deeper voice, "No...I mean. Well. _Maybe_."

Momo's playing hard to get tonight.

With herself.

"_God_ I'm so lonely," she mumbled beneath her breath, pulling her shirt down and straightening it against her waist, "how does Rukia do it? Nobody but but her cat, no family. That girl is a _warrior_."

Momo ejected from the bathroom, turning the lights off behind her, and instead of returning to the living room, she cut across the hallway to Rukia's bedroom. And turned _on _the lights. It's still a bit bland, boring as far as interior goes. Plain white walls, black dresser, black nightstand, back bed with blue comforting. The furniture was nice, she'd have to admit, very elegant. Just a little bit— "old lady" for her taste. Even a small rug would've done this room justice. There we no paintings, nothing extra. Just a lamp and a clock— no real _pizzazz_.

In there, she began to rummage through Rukia's drawers. Nothing out of the ordinary. Clothes, panties— socks. She bounced from her dresser, to the drawers in her nightstand and immediately—

"_W—hoa!_" She threw her head back, as if she had just gotten punched in the face. Dropping her eyes back down onto the contents of her drawer. Here is where the scandalous side of Rukia lied, trapped inside the confines of this drawer. My God, no _wonder _she always acted so bland, she had the inner makings of a true freak. "Oh my God," Momo gasped, she reached into the drawer and pulled out a stack of videos. Erotic videos, of all kind. "Why doesn't she let me borrow some of these?" She grumbled to herself, and sat on the edge of the bed to examine the content of each DVD case on the back.

She dropped them all on the bed beside her and dove back into the drawer, pulling out more and more of the _jewels _inside. "Oh _hell_!" She screamed, a lot louder than she was expecting to. She pulled out a long silver box and read the bold white lettering on the front: _Jack Rabbit Vibrator_. Momo had only seen these online, never in person. The toy inside was...kind of intimidating looking actually. Putting aside it's pink color, the size and structure of the thing, imagining the damage something like this could do just...it made her cross her legs.

That's probably why it's still in the box.

Tossing that aside she went back into the drawer and...she stopped entirely. Closing her eyes and holding her breath. She didn't even _want _to describe the rest of what was inside of it.

Maybe playing the "let's go through your best friend's belongings while you pet-sit her cat" isn't such a great game after all. An interesting game, but not a great one.

She replaced every item she extracted back into the drawer, and closed it. In due time she would unsee the unholy sights which fill this drawer. From the living room she could hear the shrill wailing of what sounded like a strangled cat, and she hopped up from the bed to run to Ichigo's rescue. She found him exactly where she left him, lying on the couch. Except now, he was awake, and not too happy considering the sound he was expelling.

"What's the matter Ichi-boo?" Momo babied him, stroking his fur as gentle as possible. It had eased him for a moment, but it wasn't long until he was pawing her hand for her to stop. This wasn't good. Maybe she'd call Rukia?

No, but she can't, Rukia can't answer her phone on the job! What should she do?

And then, she remembered.

She ran to the kitchen, on the counter where the small bottle rested and next to it lied the syringe Rukia said to use to administer the medicine with. She grabbed both and returned to the living room items in hand.

What were the instructions Rukia gave her? God— she should've written them down! If she was going to have a cat-sitter, she _should at least _have directions of how Momo should sit on the cat! At _least_! "Okay," Momo exhaled softly, "you can do this. Just...remember. Come on, you can remember..."

_Give it to him by mouth, with the syringe_. She remembers Rukia saying this, clearly, but what she doesn't remember— is how much. Looking at the bottle, there wasn't _a lot _of the medicine inside of it, so maybe he should take the whole thing? It _looked _like a single dose, in comparison to how large _he __is _as a full cat. Yeah, that's it, he needs the whole thing!

She uncapped the bottle and set the top aside, sticking the syringe down the neck and extracting much of the medicine inside, into the tube. She placed the bottle on the coffee table and supported Ichigo's head in her hand, sticking the syringe in his mouth, and pushing down on the plunger to release the fluid inside his mouth. "Drink up, drink up, like a good little boy. You'll feel all better after taking your medicine."

Once she was sure it was down, she took the remaining bit of the blue liquid in the jar and brought it up into the syringe, again, feeding it into his mouth, and caressing his head in praise when he drank it down and licked his nose. And then suddenly, he jerked.

He flew up from the couch and stretched his body to it's full length, his tail high in the air, his fur sticking up in aggression. He dug his claws into the leather of the couch and shredded it while he stretched, hissing venomously in the process. "Oh _God_!" Momo flew into a hectic state of panic. She threw herself back onto the ground and held her head, shaking it wildly, and shouting, "Oh God, oh no— oh God, oh no, oh _God_!"

Ichigo sprang away from the couch and onto the wall above the television, dragging his claws down the wallpaper as he came down to sit on top of the tv with his body tense and arched. Momo rose on her wobbly legs and held out her hands, "Okay, come down kitty. That's a _good _boy, just come to auntie Momo! That's it! C'mere!"

Ichigo hissed ferociously and drew further away from the woman and her words. "Rukia's going to absolutely— _wreck me_," she whimpered nervously, "what's the matter boy!? Are you okay!? D—do you want your momma? Your wife? I don't know— what does Rukia call you!? _Babe_? _Baby_!? I— I'm not your girlfriend— _but_! I mean...oh _fuck_. Is it because I touched your face!?"

At least _now _Momo knew he wasn't dead— yet. Ichigo fell on the floor, stretching, writhing in what looked and sounded like sheer agony. Momo screamed in horror, pulling on her hair, "D—don't die! Please don't die! Look, I'm calling an _ambulance_!" She ran to take her phone into her hand and at first— she dialed 9-1-1.

And then, she actually _stopped _to _think_, and she redialed, this time, with Rukia's number.

"Hello?" Rukia answered on the very first ring of the phone.

"Rukia!?" Momo cried frantically, "Rukia I can explain— I gave him his medicine, he's flippin' out right now do you hear that!? Not me flippin' out— but _him _flippin' out!—"

"Momo, I'm on my way home! It's gonna be like five minutes before I get there, can you calm down and tell me what's wrong!?"

"I— he— I went to the bathroom, and I looked in the mirror, then I went in your bedroom, and I looked through your porn and stuff, and then I came to the living room because I heard him cry, or scream, or _whatever_—" Momo inhaled deeply, a much needed breath after endless rambling, "—and he looked dead or whatever, or like he was in pain! So I gave him the medicine! I gave it to him like you told me, and then he started freaking out and he's like, he's attacking everything, and screaming, and now I'm screaming, and I think he's possessed! Can you _please _hurry the fuck up!?"

"Momo how much of the medicine did you give him!?"

"I gave him all of it! You told me to give it to him from a syringe, and I did and—"

"I said give him _half of it_!" Rukia wailed, "Oh my God Momo, I swear to God—"

"I can't hear you, you're going through a tunnel, I'll talk to you when you get here, bye!" Momo feverishly spoke before ending the call and falling to her knees to somewhat _try _and tend to Ichigo. But tending at the moment was simply hovering over him with her hands while he rolled and tore on the rug, the rug she liked oh so much, she hyperventilated in panic, and put her hands to her face.

"Hey hey— easy! Oh my God, please don't be dying! Please!? I'll give you a treat if you stop! You like treats right— what does Rukia give you? Fish? Mice? _Meth_?"

Ichigo released somewhat of a groaning sound, he's either irritated or in such insurmountable pain that he cannot express it in average cat meows. She must've been talking for minutes on end, because before she knew it, Rukia had barged into the apartment— and all hell _really _broke loose then. "Oh my God! Thank God you're here— thank _God_— I'm—"

"Ichigo!" Rukia thrusted herself down to the ground on all fours and shoved Momo out of her way. She extended her fingers to touch him, and retracted immediately when he hissed at her in aggression. "_Oh _God!"

"_Oh _my God—"

"What do we do!?" Rukia blubbered hysterically, "I didn't want to kill him, I just wanted him to get better! He's not gonna die is he!?"

Immediately, Ichigo ceased all of his action and fell into a fitful ball of soft meowing, and then, silent.

"_Uh_," Momo hesitated, "I don't...I don't _think _he's dead."

Of course he wasn't dead, they both could clearly see that, his tail still swings even though the rest of him is inanimate. Perhaps whatever freaky effect the medicine had held has worn off? She doesn't know, but Rukia has calmed down now to the point where she can actually _breathe_. "Do you want me to stay the night?"

"No," Rukia responded quickly, "no, I need...I need to watch him now...oh boy."

"I'll see you later!" Momo rolled over on the ground and exploded up from the carpet. She grabbed her belongings and rushed from the apartment as if being chased, or as if she was _about to be _chased. She slammed the door behind her in her rush to escape the place's tense grip and left Rukia to attend to Ichigo privately, kneeling by his side. His eyes closed, and his body still, but breathing.

She hasn't cried in years, not even now can she does she let tears fall, she will not cry because there's nothing wrong with him. Right? He's fine now. He's going to be fine now. Momo even said it, he's not dead. Not in those exact words but—

Didn't she also say she went through Rukia's porn stash?

Rukia pressed the palm of her hand to her head, which was hot now, she'd over exerted herself pushing to get home and run all the way up the stairs. Her energy was gone, but enough remained for her to pick up Ichigo, and carry him to her room. She lied him in the bed first, and returned to the kitchen to grab the paper bag, and bring it into the room with the both of them.

She removed her clothes until she was left in her bra and panties, and she fell down to the edge of her bed, unpacking the items in her bag. Placing the candle on the stand beside her bed, and bringing the lighter out to ignite the wick with a flame. Her only concern right now was making sure that Ichigo would be beside her tonight, so that any jerk or movement he may make, she'll be there to console him. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling his body close to hers. He didn't kick, he didn't fight, he didn't jerk, he simply lied in her arms, and allowed himself to fall into a fitful sleep, whilst the room filled with the gentle set of warm lavender.


	11. Chapter 9: Who Are You

**GATA!**

**CHAPTER NINE **:: **WHO ARE YOU**

* * *

The next morning swings around, the warmth of the sun outside melts through the curtains of her window and shined unto her bed. Last night's sleep with Ichigo has peeled her blankets somewhat aback, and brought them down to her hips so that now her torso is exposed. She's conscious, but drowsy, just as the morning yesterday, she feels energized and...hot.

She wiggled uncomfortably— although her minor struggle goes unmoved and nothing has changed. She believed the reason for her heat to be from her blankets and so she kicks, but they aren't around her torso anymore. And she shifts her head, inhaling the relaxing scent of lavender and exhaling softly, "_Ichigo_," she moaned, her voice still heavy from sleep. "_Why are you so hot_...? _And_..."

Her eyes, heavy, began to open— and once her vision has cleared, she finds that she cannot see her room, she cannot even see Ichigo. All that lies in front of her, is a wall of light flesh.

Flesh.

Her eyes widen in peril, she tried to move her arms but, whomever had been in her bed had their arms wrapped around her body, and they were _heavy _and strong. "Oh...my _God_," She trembled in fear, and sucked in enough air to suffice in her lungs, as she held her breath to dive beneath the covers. Out from underneath her intruder's arms.

Once she was freed, she burst out from under the blankets, her face red hot like molten lava— embarrassed. Sitting up she can take into full assessment what exactly is going on, and it all seems too simple to be true.

There's a man in her bed. A man in her bed, who wasn't there the night before.

Her scream starts of small, and then, slowly, it begins to escalate to an alarmingly high shrill. The male erupts from his sleep and shoots up from her mattress, and Rukia, quick and agile, takes the blankets of her bed to cover her body. And she rolls down from her bed, and pops up on the other side of the room, her eyes stricken with mortal fear, "How...who...wh—how did you get in my house?"

She watches him excruciatingly close. He seems...clueless? Observing him is like observing a newborn child, as he brings his hands to his eyes, he stops and stares at them. He looks at his digits, flexes them, and turns his hands to stare at his palms, his radiantly orange brows knitted in what seems to be confusion. He then touches his full bed of orange spiked hair, and pinches his face, and rubs his skin.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!" Rukia snapped assertively, "Who are you? H—how did you get here? Did you break in? Are— are you a _junkie_!?"

"_I_..." He began to speak, but his voice immediately cracks. He brings his hand to his mouth to cover it, his eyes wide as he pulls his palm away to stare, with an expression of utter shock as if he's heard his own voice for the first time. Rukia is either too frightened, or too confused to react correctly, correctly being, aggress the situation with violent self defense moves she'd learned over the years. However, these moves were learned as _self defense_, and as long as she remained untouched by him, there wasn't much "defending" to do.

"_Ichigo_," he finally said, pointing to himself as he does, he stares at Rukia with eyes of amber orchid. "Ichigo?" Rukia shook her head softly, her forehead wrinkled in confusion.

Ichigo.

"Ichigo!" She immediately repeated the name with a passion lit by a fire of rage and worry. She rushed to collect her shoes which are lied out in the middle of the floor, and throw them each one at a time at the stranger that lied beneath the sheets of her bed. He moved with such quick reflexes that he was able to dodge what would have been two damaging blows, and he quickly recovered, throwing his legs off the edge of the bed.

Rukia yelped in embarrassment, "Oh my _God_, you're _naked_!"

She whipped her head, turning away from him in his bare form, and squeezing her eyes shut. She threw the blankets in which she used to cover herself onto him, and ran around to the other side of the bed to snatch one of her pillows to cover herself instead. The man fought with the comforter for a while, and finally, he freed his head, and looked around for Rukia who seemed to disappear.

"W—where is my cat!? Where's Ichigo?" She began to shout, "Why are you wearing my cat's collar!?"

He looked down at the collar's silver plate, dangling. Taking it between his thumb and index finger and pulling it forward, he looked so hopeful in shower off the silver plate, and saying its name out loud, "Ichigo!"

He leaped up from the bed, and immediately, Rukia shut her eyes again, until a loud _thud _filled the room. She opened one of her eyes to find that he'd disappeared, and before she could even believe that any of this was a dream, she heard him groaning on the bedroom floor. He picked himself up, slowly, using both the nightstand and her bed as a support as he lifted himself. In his fall, thankfully, the blanket's she'd thrown at him have wrapped themselves around his waist. He pulls at them, to look down at his lower extremities, and shakes his head immediately, his eyes fluttering.

It's as if he can't walk, or rather, he doesn't know _how _to. His legs start off moving in a slow shuffle, and then, he spreads them further apart as he strides around in a small circle beside the bed. He's wearing the same expression that she has, one of confusion, and fear. He looks as if his mind is racing, and then, in the blink of an eye, he looks up to her, and his eyes are clear. And his lips part, and he speaks, "What...what happened?"

"I asked _you _that!" Rukia barked angrily, "I asked you how you got here—"

He looks around momentarily, and then, he points at the bed, "Here."

"Yes," Rukia too pointed at the bed, her gesture, with more intensity behind it, "_there_!"

"I slept, here."

"No you did _not _sleep _here_! My _cat _was sleeping there, and now _you're _there, and you're wearing my cat's collar, and—" After her sequence of words, Rukia's eyes began to grow, and nervously, she asked again, "What...what did you say your name was...?"

"Ichigo," he rattled the collar again, and nodded his head, "I'm...Ichigo. Me..."

"_Holy _shit—" Rukia crumbed to the ground and held tightly onto her head with both hands. "This doesn't make any sense...this is fuckin' crazy! This is impossible! This..." She melted. She absolutely melted, and fell to the floor completely on her bottom, pressing herself against the corner, with her knees up to her chest. The man began to approach her, slowly, for either he could not walk completely correct yet, or he did not want to frighten her—

"_Stop_!" She immediately demanded, and pulled the blankets up to her chest, "Just...stop! Just, just don't come near me! Go!" She pointed angrily at him. His face saddened, but he nonetheless, obeyed. He pulled further and further away from him, until the planes of his back were placed against the wall opposite to the one Rukia sat beside. He slid down the white paint, and came to the floor, just as she had. In a corner, facing her, wearing part of her bed set— just as she was. They stared at each other relentlessly, and something familiar came over her the longer she looked. As he pulled one of his legs up to his chest to rest his chin on the cap of his knee, and he tilts his head. She remembers a similar gesture Ichigo would make, a tilt of the head and an endless stare.

Even his eyes, seemed familiar. Almost comforting, but only almost—

"Hey," Rukia finally spoke out, and afterwards, she swallowed nervously, "sh...show me your arm."

The man perked, his head lifting and his expression changing to mirror that of confusion.

"Your arm!" Rukia repeated herself loudly. She lifted her own arm and bent it at the elbow so that she would show him just her forearm. His expression lightened, and he mirrored her, showing her his forearm. She stared at it until she found what she was looking for, and it didn't take long. A scar, long healed but still visible, noticed by a darker patch of skin to show that there had been a wound there. It was long and thin, and traveled from his elbow, to his wrist. Ichigo had too received a scar in the same place, after having been wounded in a fight with another stray neighborhood cat several years ago.

"How did you get that?" She interrogated further, "That scar? Who gave it to you?"

"_Fight_," the man stuttered, and he pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth to push out more words, "n...name. You. You named me. Ichigo. I got this, from a fight. With another...c—cat..."

"Oh _no_..."

He must've been a mind reader. It was the only logical explanation to have waken up beside a naked man wearing her cat's collar and claiming to _be _her cat— while he retains the knowledge that only she and her _cat _would know. And scars in places that her cat has. There...

There _was no _logical explanation for a scenario like this. She'd have to come to and face facts, something here is terribly turned. And therefore she continues to interrogate him, "Do I have any family?"

He nodded his head yes.

"Who? What's their name?"

"Brother, Bya...kuya. And. Wife. Hisana."

Rukia blinked several times before lying her eyes back on him in appall, he was _almost _right. Except, Hisana hadn't been Rukia's wife. Rukia has, and never had, a wife. Nor has she discussed Hisana with anyone— ever. "She's...Hisana is...my sister. How...how do you know about Hisana?"

"He tells me. When we were alone. You were never home when he did and...he talked to me. About his wife. But I've never seen...or heard her."

That's because she's dead. Hisana has been dead— long dead, since before Rukia turned two years old. She died in the hospital after losing her battle with...she can't remember the specific details, because as this man has said, she would be out o the house or no where in sight whenever Byakuya would bring up the topic. Now she's convinced, there is something extremely peculiar about this man and what he knows, and how he claims to know it.

"Who was the lady that was watching you last night? What was her name?—"

"Auntie," he burst out quickly, the answer fresh in his mind, "auntie Momo!"

"Stay right there. Right where you are."

Rukia stood up slowly. She crawled over her bed, her eyes never left he who sat in the corner of her room obedient, and loyal. She took her phone and knelt on her mattress, only looking at it for a moment, before pressing it to her face for several, silent seconds. "Momo..." She finally says, slowly, and softly.

"Yeah? Rukia, what's up? You sound really—"

"Have you ever called yourself," Rukia paused momentarily, thinking about how she'd say her next few words, "_auntie Momo _around Ichigo?"

It was quiet immediately after. Followed up by Momo stretching out the words, _yeah_, "Why...do you ask?"

"I'll call you back," she replied flatly, and with that, Rukia ended her call, and set her phone back on her nightstand. She couldn't believe it, she didn't _want _to believe it. There...there was _no way _she _could _believe it even if she'd tried. But at this point, there wasn't a single reason for her _not _to believe it— nothing other than, the odds of her cat suddenly turning into a man, a young man, overnight is. Preposterous!

"_Ichigo_," Rukia spoke nervously, and inhaled softly before continuing to speak, "do you know where you are?"

"Home," he said confidently. Rukia nodded and continued, "And do you know what turned you...like this?"

He shook his head sadly, the look in his eyes is scared and lost as anyone's would be if they didn't understand how they'd been put in a situation like this. Not that...anyone had ever had a situation similar to this. Has anyone ever had a situation similar to this? She stopped to ponder on the idea for several moments, and shook the idea from her head. "_Oh my God_," Rukia clasped her hands around her head and caught her erratic breath, "this is crazy. This is absolutely nuts. Have I lost it? I'm crazy..."

"You're not crazy," the man in the corner overheard her whisper and retorted though unspoken to, "you're smart. Because you're Rukia."

Rukia rose her head in amazement. Those few words, those five words that Byakuya used to tell her all the time as a child to urge her to bring home great grades and perfect honor roll each year.

_You're smart because you're Rukia_.

Her lips parted, Rukia inhaled, but choked and quickly lost every breath of air she'd ever breathed into the air. "Say your name again," she voiced softly, and calmly, "one more time."

"Ichigo," he replied obediently. And although this didn't make sense, she believed him. She'd have to figure out the "technicalities" later, but for now, she was completely convinced that this man. This unassuming stranger, was no stranger at all. He was Ichigo, and he was her best friend. Her best friend whom she'd just only met today, in this physical form.

He was Ichigo, and was just as scared, and confused as she was. This comforted her a little to know, that she was not the only one stricken in fear. But also, this saddened her, that she had no answers to the questions she knew lingered in his mind. She could see it in his eyes, there we so many unanswered interrogatives and so little responses she could give. "_How the hell did this happen_," she breathed out shortly, and inhaled deeply, "I can't tell anyone about this. They'll all think I'm crazy or making this up...this...this is a secret. This is _our _secret."

He nodded his head in understanding, and she too, nodded her head for the simple fact that she had no other idea what she should do. The only thing she knew for sure, is that she would have to find this naked man some clothes, if he was going to roam her home. He would _not _be doing so, in the buff. And if this man was truly who he claims to be, she also knows, that she will have to dig to find the root of this situation, to answer questions impossibly hard to investigate on her own. And for some reason, she knew exactly where to begin her search for answers.

For some reason, she knew, that _today_— she'd be making another trip to Urahara's shop.


	12. Chapter 10: An Explanation

**GATA! **

**CHAPTER TEN **:: **AN EXPLANATION**

* * *

Ururu is under constant attention, in the back of the store where she lies under blankets and a damp towel over her head, Yoruichi is changing her water and occasionally, she fans her. Jinta sits closely, mostly to observe, he doesn't do much more than watch and once or twice he'd protest against Yoruichi moving her or anything that would basically stir her body. Yoruichi huffed apprehensively, "Do you know what she was so anxious about? Was there something wrong before she went out?"

"She was trying to tell me something," Jinta said, "she was trying, but...I told her to wait while I made the sale...we couldn't have her exposing herself y'know? She was in mid-form when she came out of the lab. She never got the chance to tell me."

His ears twitched in correlation to the sound of several, wooden _clicking _stamps across the floor, "Mr. Hat 'n clogs is comin'," he grumbled softly. Yoruichi ceased fanning momentarily to register his speech, and then glance up at the door as it opened, a very darkly posed Urahara in its frame. He arrived just as Tessai had come back into the room with another pan of fresh water, which he set by Yoruichi, and stood erect to greet Kisuke formally, "What is it Mr. Urahara?"

"Bad news I'm afraid," Kisuke shook his head slowly, coming into the room he used his cane to close the door shut behind him, and sighed. "You saw something?" Yoruichi questioned. He nodded his head, yes.

"I'm afraid that our little Ururu will have to be resurrected from her slumber."

He took his hand out from the pocket of his robe and lifted it from his side, the higher he came, Ururu's unconscious body began to sit up from the mat she was carefully lied on. "W—wait!" Jinta alarmed in detestation. Quickly, he grabbed a hold of Ururu's shoulders and fought against Kisuke's telekinesis to try and push her back down where she lied, "You can't just wake her up! She isn't 'asleep' she's fainted! She has to wake up on her own or—"

"Jinta's right Kisuke," Yoruichi butted into the boy's speech with her own commentary, "we're not sure what her mental state she's in right now. If her brain is balancing in limbo then waking her could be extremely dangerous. She could do extensive damage to herself— and to the rest of us."

Their word going unheeded, Kisuke continued his approach to the young girl sitting up on her mat. He parted both Jinta and Yoruichi, and with the palm of his masculine hand, took a hold of her head and squeezed his fingers around it. Jinta shrank away, absolutely fearful— a rare if ever occurring side of him shows when he pushes himself back against the wall. Yoruichi moved as well, not as far away but far enough to be of no interference to Kisuke, as he proceeded to do as he wished. Seconds slipped into what felt like an eternity of Kisuke doing nothing more than gripping Ururu's head— and then—

Her eyes exploded open, her mouth too, and she gasped deeply for air and flung her body onto the ground. She retched unbearably hair, emptying the contents of her stomach on the floor and Tessai quickly came to the aid of the angel choking heinously on her own bile. "U—Ururu!" Jinta cried, "Are you...are you...?"

"She's fine," Kisuke smiled gingerly, "her mind was in the green. No red here—"

"You knew this, you bastard." Yoruichi growled, her hand to her heart which was racing at about twice it's normal speed. He chuckled, and twirled his cane at his side, "I have a flare for theatrics!" He said, "What— do you really think I would've waken her up if I knew she'd be in limbo!? What kind of reckless man do you think I am, Yoruichi!"

"You still haven't told us why you woke he up," Yoruichi replied calmly now that her pulse had returned to normal, "what's the bad news?"

"I— Mr. Urahara— sorry," Ururu spilled words in nonsense order from her rambling mind and mouth, "I didn't mean to...I messed it up...that woman, Rukia, the potion isn't right! I don't know the effect it's going to have!"

"You made a bad spell!?" Jinta, going pale, jumped to his feet and ran to Ururu's side once more, "Why didn't you tell me before I made the final sale!?"

"I was trying! I couldn't...I was scared— and you told me to stay—"

"_Shit_," Yoruichi cursed maliciously, "Kisuke, what did you see!? The girl, is she going to come back?"

"She's on her way, I can feel her energy nearing. And she has questions."

"So what do we do!?" Jinta questioned frantically, "What do we tell her!?"

"Nothing! We kill her of course—" Yoruichi suggested swiftly, before the idea was quickly dismissed by Kisuke himself. "Isn't manslaughter what got you burned at the stake the first time?" He said. Yoruichi ground her teeth, and sat back while both Kisuke and Jinta further discussed their options.

"We could lie," Jinta preached, "depending on the effect the potion had...if it's small or if it isn't a huge deal...we could just lie and tell her that her measurements weren't right! Or give her a refund?"

"But what if the effects were not small or explicable?"

The bunch fell in silence, and exchanged eye contact with each and every one of each other. "_Ururu_ will then have to explain herself to our visitor."

"You want Ururu to expose herself?" Jinta put up an argument immediately after Kisuke's demand, "But if she does that...won't that expose us all?"

"Who's to say that she will believe Ururu?" Kisuke raised his brows at his point being made, "What's 'normal' or understandable to us isn't quite accepted in the human world to those with level heads. Our visitor was a woman of logic, the idea of magic to her would sound as preposterous and asinine as it would to anyone else of her level of thinking. As long as she is closed minded, we are safe in secret, and however Ururu explains to her what happened, she may or may not take it seriously. Or she may try to find a science behind whatever's happened."

Ururu stood without further protest from her peers, her head bowed and her hands folded in front of her, she lifted her eyes to meet Kisuke's emerald jewels, "Yes sir, Mr. Urahara. I'll take responsibility."

"Excellent, there couldn't be a more perfect timing," Kisuke slammed his cane back down to the ground. He retreated back to the door and slid it open, glancing back over his shoulder at the room, and more specifically, at Ururu, "places everyone! Our visitor just arrived..."

~X~

Rukia snatched her keys from the ignition of her car and ceased the engine's lively purr. She flung her driver side door open to its full extent and tried to jump out before she'd even unbuckled her seat belt. And after several moments spent struggling with the infernal contraption, she developed the sense to push the button and unlock the snap, so that she could free herself much easier. And after doing so, she fell out of her car, and slammed the door closed behind her.

She rushed to the store's front step, and stormed in through the door, the silver chimes alarming the residents of this less than subtle place that a visitor had arrived. Immediately, she came to the front counter where the young man, Jinta, aware of her presence— but wary of her all at once, looked up to acknowledge her.

"I need to speak to Mr. Urahara," she laid out her request in full, smooth and solid with no bumps or holes. He couldn't help but notice how pale she was, paler than the usual, considering her skin was already the consistency and color or porcelain. He nodded without words, and stepped out from behind the corner, disappearing behind the double doors into the back room. Rukia stood still at the front counter, her mind racing, her attention isn't focused on her surroundings— therefore, she does not notice when the black cat from her past visit has jumped up on the high shelf behind her. Where it sits, and watches Rukia from a safe distance.

"Ah, Ms. Rukia," Kisuke announced as if surprised by her appearance in his shop. Behind him came Ururu, her head down and her hands tightly bound, still. Her fingers are interlaced so tightly with one another, so nervously, that it was the only thing she could do to keep from trembling out of her mind. "How can I be of your services so early in the morning?—"

"That...'medicine' you sold me," Rukia began, but she stopped herself while she was ahead. She squeezed her eyes shut and reevaluated how she would proceed to tell her story. She'd try to stay convincing, but exclude the parts where an innocent blue liquid has turned her cat into an adult man— _if _that is truly the case. In fact, now that she was here, she regretted it. She went from telling "Ichigo" to keep the scenario a secret, yet here she is telling a shop owner and his workers, who would probably look at her as if she were crazy— and tell her to call the police! There's a mad man sitting in her apartment!

"I don't know what happened," she clapped her hands together, shaking her head side to side frantically, "Momo, she fed him the dosage wrong, he started going crazy. Now he's..."

Kisuke tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, curious.

"Last night, I put him in my bed. We went to sleep. And when I woke up this morning...he wasn't there..." Rukia inhaled softly, in preparation for her next line of explanation, "there was a man. Who says to be my cat. And knows things that only me and _my cat _would."

Ururu's head sprang up on her neck, her eyes wide open and her mouth as well. Urahara shook his head, just as surprised, his hat flying off in the process, exposing his full face— for the first time in front of Rukia— and his explosively green eyes. Behind her, she didn't see him, but Jinta too was thrown into mortal shock. He'd nearly thrown himself over the counter, his jaw unhinged so that his mouth dropped so wide he could've fit the register in it. And the cat behind her immediately rose, it's hairs standing on end.

Rukia blinked, this wasn't the reaction she was expected, she was expecting a— "you're insane lady", or a "there's obviously an explanation for this", but what she didn't expect for the second option, was a real explanation. Kisuke exhaled raspily and brought his hand to his face, brushing his fingers across his brows and covering his lips.

"Your...your cat," Kisuke began to speak, chattering rather than actually talking in his usual calm and collective self, "your cat turned into a man?"

Rukia hesitated at first, but she nodded.

"A _human _man?" Kisuke reiterated with emphasis.

She nodded again.

"This is _not _just a small problem," Kisuke bellowed in alarm.

"So...you _don't _think I'm crazy?"

Rukia stared at the man and the girl at his side. She turned back to look at Jinta, who had somewhat recovered from his shock, so that now he sits back with his hand over his close mouth, and his eyes are still bulging wide. Kisuke massaged his temples, and rolling his eyes in silence for several seconds, he collected his thoughts so that he man recollect himself and speak in the same casual manner he'd been known for, "Mr. Rukia," he griped darkly. "I believe..._we_ have some explaining to do."

Explaining? So an explanation for this _did _truly exist! "If you would follow us," he brought his hand to the door and slid it further open, urging Ururu to go into the room, "inside...I'll be glad to have this discussion with you."

~X~

Once she situated herself inside the room, it was a cold five minutes of silence. Of dead staring into the face of the silent man Tessai, who's muscular features overwhelmed her, for moments upon moments, she only stared because she was trying to peer past the lenses of his glasses. But the enigma remained impenetrable, and so she simply found herself staring to be staring to be staring. They were the only people to inhabit the room at the time, Kisuke and the others had been busy locking up shop, informing people that they were closed and securing the premises.

It was five minutes in counting, until finally, the doors opened. First the cat waltzed into the room, following behind it, Ururu, and Jinta. And last but not least, Kisuke who closed the door behind him and waited for the others to get themselves situated around the round wooden tea table before he would join them. "Tessai," he spoke firmly, and the man Rukia had been convinced was no more than a statue, stood up in attention, and startled her. "Would you get us some tea, please? This may be a while."

Tessai nodded and commenced to following orders. Allowing Kisuke, an empty space for him to sit by the table. He came softly to the ground and crossed his legs, lying his cane horizontally in his lap. He was seemingly the calmest of the bunch, Ururu was as nervous as she could possibly be and it showed. And Jinta, he was tense. With an unbearable heat radiating off his skin that burned Rukia who sat next to him, and she wiped her hand across her head to rid it of the sweat collecting at her brows.

Ururu gave him a soft tap on the arm, and nodded her head towards Rukia, who'd been in obvious discomfort. "_Sorry_," he grumbled quietly, and slowly, the boiling hot temperature that radiated off of him, cooled down until the drop in heat became noticeable to Rukia, and she reacted in shock. "That was you?" She stuttered in disbelief. Kisuke sighed, and placed his hand on the table.

"Now Ms. Rukia, as you can very well see. We're all in a great disposition. And it's got us all quite nervous..." He curled his fingers into his palm tightly, and slipped his fist back down off the table and into his lap, "Now, I'd just like to request, that as I begin telling you what I'm about to tell you, do not act frightened. Do not scream, do not become angry, and do not ask questions until the very end. And in the end, I will have your word that you will not speak of this anywhere outside this place. Do I have your word?"

Rukia swallowed, her anxiety was building to tremendous new heights and it's got her tongue in knots. "Put it in words."

"Yes," she finally pushed out the appropriate words to say, "you have my word."

Kisuke nodded understandingly. He inhaled to fill his lungs with the air necessary to begin his speech, but suddenly, he froze. He had not lied when he told her of their great disposition, it showed in his expression, the level of discomfort he was in. "You see Ms. Rukia, we here run a business."

Tessai arrived with a wooden tray of small cups and tea, he pardoned his interruption as he placed the tray on the table and began to place the cups around the edge. He placed one more cup down than there was of people who formed around the table, and she wondered, does he usually have two cups of tea? As he began to pour the warm tea from it's pot, she nodded her head in thanks, and wrapped her hand around the cup. "Our business here, is simple. We sell remedies, medicines and potions. Elixirs and incense. Some call us the 'magic box', other call us the perfect place for items of witchcraft...may I ask you something Ms. Rukia?"

"Y—yeah," Rukia nodded her head feverishly, "go on."

"A little _cat _once told me that upon your first visit you seemed, anxious."

A little cat? She could've sworn the expression had been, "a little birdy". Perhaps he was unfamiliar with it, and that's why he said it incorrectly. However, she hadn't been in any position to ask questions, or correct him, "Yes."

"And this little cat also told me that it might have been...that you felt...the presence of spirits?"

"Yes," she answered quicker this time, "well. I don't know if it's spirits, per say...but...I did feel something weird. And I still do."

"Lady Yoruichi, why don't you come out and join us at the table?" Kisuke glanced over his shoulder at the black cat observing from the corner of the room. The cat came to the table, sitting casually beside Kisuke, who began to remove his robe to wrap it around, "Forgive me for disrobing at the table. But when you see this, you'll understand why it's necessary."

Rukia knitted her brows in confusion, and she stared at the black feline, who's golden eyes disappeared behind dark eyelids. Thus before her eyes, she watched as the cat began to increase in size, while it's fur began to recede back into it's dark flesh. It's bestial features shrank and molded grossly to form more humanly physical traits, and its ears had disappeared into a thick main of violet that grew wildly down the back of the woman that'd began to emerge from the cat's body. If she hadn't seen it all just now, happen before her very eyes, she wouldn't have believed it. A cat, morphing into a woman, who's body is bare except for the green robe that Kisuke used to cover his white hakama, that she pulled around her form. And she stared, hard, at Rukia.

With her now human hand and fingers, she reached towards the table to take the extra cup of tea that Rukia had questioned earlier, and brought it to her full lips to sip generously. "Now that you've seen it for yourself," Kisuke continued to speak, his voice calm and steady, "I hope you'll understand why we're all so rattled that you've come back with such startling news."

"I—" Rukia breathed, exhaling, and inhaling again, "I...how...?"

"Please save all questions till the end," Kisuke sighed, "this is already quite a challenge. Ms. Rukia, as Lady Yoruichi has just shown you, we are not your ordinary human beings. Well. Not all of us." He glanced across the table at Tessai who sat quietly and drank his tea, "We here are a _congregation_, or all types of spiritual beings. Yoruichi, being a witch. My two apprentices, Jinta and Ururu, a devil and an angel. And I, myself...well. You can just call me a _dealer_."

"_Huh_," Rukia asked unconsciously, having no control over her own brain at the moment, the inquisitive noise just _slipped out._

"I'm a _business man_, Ms. Rukia," Kisuke said, tapping the bottom of his cup repetitively down on the table, "that, speaking in a much simpler sense. The concept is quite unchanged, I trade things for mediums of exchange. You see, hundreds of years ago I conducted my business in the form of barter. But in this day and age, everything can be bought with money as it seems. But. I'm a reasonable man with an understanding that those less fortunate than ourselves often time don't have money. And to those people, I offer..._a contract_."

"Contract?" Rukia questioned, and this time, she did so with a conscience.

"Let's use— Mr. Tessai! As a prime example! An excellent example really! You see Ms. Rukia, Tessai and I have been 'in business' for a long, _long_, time. And in an immediate time of crisis, me being the kind gentleman I _claim_ to be—" he emphasized clearly on the word _claim_, "—I came to our dear fellow Tessai's assistance, while he was on the brink of death. I offered him a deal, a very simple deal. You see Ms. Rukia, what I offered Mr. Tessai, was _immortality_. And I gave it to him in exchange for his eternal allegiance...and..."

Rukia leaned in, she'd nearly thrown herself over the table, eager for him to finish his explanation, "Yeah? And?—"

"His _soul_."

Rukia draw aback from Kisuke and glanced at the man curiously, would him being without a soul explain the emptiness being the only thing she could find behind his glasses? If the story were true, it could quite possibly be the explanation as to why a man of his liking would work under a small, scrawnier man like Urahara. She darted her eyes away from Tessai, and lied them flat on Yoruichi, who'd noticed her curious stare before she had time to correct it and look away.

"_He ain't lyin_'," Yoruichi shrugged nonchalantly. She placed her tea cup back down on the table, and righted the robe around her body so that she'd cover the skin betwixt her breasts, "The story for me is very similar, but not exactly the same. You see, back in _my day_—" which Rukia imagined was probably centuries ago, "—witchcraft wasn't a gift, or a thing of beauty. It was more like a curse, and anyone convicted of withcraft was almost always killed, if they did not escape. The humans were arrogant in that time, less so than they are now, but still, arrogant. An old schoolmate of mine and myself ran away from our small town to join the coven for young witches in the next state over. She didn't survive. But I? I made it."

"How did you wind up here?" Rukia retorted curiously. She found that she'd blatantly been disobeying Kisuke's past request of saving all questions for later, but he seemed to not mind that she's somewhat inquisitive about the origins of their relationship, so she stretched her luck a bit farther. "In the coven, we had one teacher, a woman who was known simply as the 'supreme'. Her name was Chikane, and she was the most powerful witch in all of the coven. As you need to be, to rule the coven with an iron fist."

Yoruichi stopped for a moment to analyze Rukia's expression, she tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, "When I arrived, I was seen as a 'challenge'. A threat to her throne, my power was strong, the strongest of any girl's in the coven, including, our supreme. She took me 'under her wing' to say the least, and taught me how to control my powers for the most part. And within time, I was chosen, along with four other witches in my coven, to participate in a trial of tests that would allow the council to evaluate our power, so when the time came, our next supreme would be chosen.

"I'd almost completed all seven trials. Telekinesis, psychokinesis. Pyrokinesis. I was praised by the council all the way up until the very last trial. I was asked to heal another witch's wounds after she'd been attacked by with hunters. However, I wasn't in as much control over my power as I thought. And I _killed_ her. I was tried by the council on charges of murdering a fellow witch, and as a verdict, I was burned alive at the stake."

_Burned alive_? Just the thought of such a punishment made Rukia's skin crawl, her stomach tighten, and her blood run cold. The thought of being alive, fully conscious while your flesh is being cooked and your body is being burned to its core. The agony must've been excruciating, but he dared not ask to arouse the memory of such pain. Quietly, she continued to listen, and pour more tea for herself into her cup to quench her sudden dry throat.

"_Kisuke _had always had his eye on me, as it turns out. He was present during the event of my burning, under every witches' nose, he was hiding in the shadows. And when I was left to nothing, but ashes. He took those ashes, and he resurrected me. He brought me back to life by binding my soul with that of another living thing, and if you haven't already guessed it. That _other living thing_, was a prissy feline." She shook her head and widened her eyes, inhaling, and then exhaling loudly, "It took years for me to manage, often times I'd looked for ways to end my life, I was stuck for what felt like an eternity in the living form of a _pet_. But once my power had started to come back, my soul then healed, and I was able to regain my own physical form.

"And in exchange for immortality, to fully regain my power and take my place as supreme, I sold him the very substance of myself that gave me life. I sold him my soul and in return, I'd grow in power and keep my physical form. But it was after a thousand years that I learned that my school was destroyed by the witch hunters, and our kind was nearly erased in the war against them. Now, I'm simply wasting away with no soul while my powers decrease slowly over the course of centuries. And I wait while Kisuke looks for a recipe that will help restore me to my original self."

She sighed, almost whimsically, and took another drink from her cup, until she realized it was empty, and gestured for Tessai to refill it. "Why did you resurrect her?" Rukia asked, directing her question to Kisuke himself.

"I'm a man with few weaknesses. But one of them being," he leaned into Yoruichi's side and spoke hotly into her ear, "I'm a sucker for beautiful, powerful women."

Yoruichi rolled her eyes and shot her elbow out into his rib cage, she sent him reeling back to his own side, holding his ribs and rubbing. "_I'm joined at a table with a bunch of fuckin' fairytales_," Rukia mumbled, almost inaudibly.

"I am _not _a fairytale!" Jinta protested in anger, "I am a _fearsome_ and strong demon expelled from the most fiery pits of hell! I am not some character in a children's nursery book—"

"_Jinta was expelled unto the Earth after destroying his school_," Yoruichi whispered behind her hand, to Rukia, "_he was at the bottom of his class._"

Jinta blew an irritated sigh and the tea in his cup, wrapped tightly by his hands, began to boil and steam. Rukia looked past him at the quiet young girl looking down into her cup and questioned, "What about you? How did you wind up here?"

Ururu's head whipped up from its bowed position and she stared momentarily at Rukia. "Me?" She said, and pointed to herself, shaking her head afterwards, "Oh no. M—my story isn't nearly as interesting as Mr. Urahara's, or Lady Yoruichi's, or Tessai's...or..._Jinta's_..."

"You're an angel?" Rukia asked, "I think that's pretty interesting." _And it's definitely better than a witch, a demon, and a "dealer"_.

"Well, I...I'm not _exactly_ an angel...because I can't get into heaven," she swirled the tip of her finger around the rim of her cup, "I was born with a gift, to heal people, but I was also born with the power to eliminate those who did not deserve to be saved. When I died really young, it was undecided whether or not I would go to heaven or hell, so I've been walking along the line of limbo for a long long time...just a soul, wandering around the Earth. Waiting for my judgement to be made. Until Mr. Urahara found me, and he helped me to no longer wander! He gave me this fake body to occupy my soul, so people could see me, and I could work as his apprentice! But I'm still waiting...so I'm trying to be really good so I can go to heaven with my mom and dad."

"Fake..._body_...?" Rukia blinked. Kisuke exploded proudly into explanation without specifically being questioned, "Yes— I've created artificial bodies for both Ururu _and _Jinta! This is so that they can be seen by humans! I call them _gigai_. They are shells used to store their souls, sort of like costumes, but they take on the appearance of the wearer— only making them look _human_."

"So..." Rukia rubbed her temples in a circular motion, and looked at the two young adolescents to her left, "so you guys...don't really look like this?"

"No way!" Jinta snapped, "I look _way _scarier than this! This body makes me look weak and scrawny—"

"Mine is pretty accurate," Ururu laughed nervously, and shrugged her shoulders, "I didn't really look like much before...in fact, I think this body make me look a little bit cuter!"

Right.

She was losing grip of reality here, having been sucked up into the back of this store for an hour now, listening to stories she clearly had no business knowing. This entire visit had gone unsuccessful in her real reason for coming which...she couldn't quite remember now that her head was spinning. First she's encountered a man who she can _easily _associate with the devil, his two apprentices— an angel _and_ a demon. His soulless employee whom obeys his every whim. And his— can she even call the two lovers?

A woman _he _loves, but she's sure that Yoruichi feels some sort of resentment towards him. But with that being said, there isn't a doubt in her mind that the two were, and _are_ lovers. The devil and a witch, who also, in a sick twist of fate, is the black cat. The devil and the black cat.

The black cat.

Cat.

"_Ichi—_" Rukia slammed her head down on the table, ultimately frightening everyone around it, before she exploded back up and put her hands on the edge, "m—my cat! Ichigo! That's what I'm here for! You have to help me!"

"That's easier said than done, Ms. Rukia!" Kisuke bellowed, "Alas, I have no idea what Ururu could have done to have created such a potion that turns animals to human beings! And she doesn't seem to remember either!"

"You don't understand— right now, as we are speaking, there is a young adult _man_ lying in my apartment wearing my brother's _hand-me-downs__— with no clue as to how he became human! But he has all the knowledge of being a cat— my _cat—he can't even _walk _straight on two legs, nor can he prepare a coherent sentence, or understand big words—"

"Wait a minute," Kisuke jerked forward in astonishment, "you're saying that he's functional?"

"_What_?"

"Like, he's walking and talking? He understands you and responds accordingly?"

"Did you hear any of what I _just said_?" Rukia scolded, "Yes, he's functional! For the _most_ part at least.—"

"_Incredible_," Kisuke looked over to Ururu in absolute awe, "Ururu! Do you realize what you've done?"

"N—no sir?"

"You've created a brand new life!" He dove back over to Yoruichi and continued to praise, "Ururu has _accidentally_ created a potion that take something from a completely different species and change it to another— whilst _restoring _its life and enabling it to be functional and intelligent!"

"_Uhuh_?" Yoruichi nodded her head slowly as if she were beginning to understand where he was taking his speech. He grabbed her hands, squeezing them tightly, his face glowing with glee and his pearly white teeth exposed in his endless smile. "If I can pick out the components of the potion and figure out _exactly _how she bonded them, I can chemically engineer it and find a way to revert you back to your original form before your soul was destroyed!"

"_And then I'll be free of this weak animal possession_..." Yoruichi's eyes glittered magically with new found hope and joy, "and then I'll have all my power back! I can rebuild the coven! _I _can be the new supreme! The start of a new sisterhood—"

"He—_llo_?" Rukia reminded them of her presence, "Did we forget I was _here_?"

"I'll be powerful again," Yoruichi began to rise from the floor with Kisuke's hands enveloping her own, she brought him up with him, and they both stood hand in hand with eyes attached to each other. "I'll be back to my old self!"

"I'll be the genius that brought you back to your old self," Kisuke said, he'd somehow find a way to twist Yoruichi's joy into his own.

"Me...the _supreme_!"

"Me, the mad _genius_!"

"Guys?—" Rukia waved her hand high in the air.

"With the coven restored and all the witches who are alive come out of hiding...we could make _fossils _of those bastard witch hunters! We'll be the most powerful coven to have ever been built from the ground up! And I— Yoruichi Shihouin— would be the new _supreme_!"

"That's _so _insanely attractive, to think you're going to be supreme—"

"_Ooh—_" Yoruichi trembled powerfully at the word rolling off Kisuke's wicked tongue, "say it again. Say my name."

"Lady Yoruichi Shihouin— the _supreme_." Kisuke purred haughtily, and wrapped his arm around her waist to support her as he knees fell to gelatin. He'd keep repeating it and she'd keep telling him too, every time, moaning out in ecstasy...in front of everyone in the room.

"_They're doing it again_," Ururu groaned uncomfortably. She covered her eyes and Jinta squeezed his own shut, his lips sealed tight, and the cup in his hand releasing the steam of the evaporated beverage. Again—?

"Earth to _Lady Supreme _and _Mad Genius_!" Rukia snapped her fingers sharply, reeling their attention back down unto her, and thankfully, ceasing their inappropriate display of— whatever was going on! "Before we get off track again, let's all remember— I've got a little _cat problem _here!"

"Of course!" Kisuke cleared his throat, and returned to his normal posture with Yoruichi pressed against his side, "But as I said, until I've pulled out all the components of the potion— Ichigo was his name? Will remain human until I've whipped up a new batch to return him to his original form! And _another _batch, to turn my lovely Yoruichi into the next supre—"

"So what am I supposed to do then!?" Rukia cried. Kisuke shrugged, "He's your cat. Take care of him like you always have. Except, now he's human. So. Treat him like a human."

He made it sound so deceivingly simple, it was almost insulting to her intelligence. "But that's impossible! I can't take care of a grown man— who's not even in the system, and has no documentation! _Technically_, now that he's a human, he's illegal to Japan! What am I supposed to do if somebody— if my landlord comes along, sees him, asks for his information and then—"

"_That_ predicament has a simple solution," Yoruichi replied, "just bring a notebook, some real legal documents— your own, and a list with Ichigo's full name, date of birth, and bring them here tomorrow. _I'll_ do the rest."

"—_Tomorrow_?" Rukia snapped her neck forward in disbelief, "I'm here right now! My house is a ten minute drive away, I can go get—"

"It's probably better that you come tomorrow," Ururu briefly interrupted, her hand shielding the side of her eyes so her peripheral vision would be shut off from the couple standing across the table. "Then, they'll be able to actually concentrate on the task rather than _each other_..."

_Unbelievable_! Rukia's head bounced back down onto the surface of the table, groaning, she lied there for several seconds in the same room as—

"_Say it again_."

"_Ms. Supreme._~"

Disgusting.

"I'm going home," Rukia grumbled, and stood up on her limp legs, cold and heavy from being beneath her for so long without movement. She dragged herself to the doors, and pushed them open to allow her an escape from the awkward atmosphere. "Goodbye Ms. Rukia," Ururu waved farewell, "we promise to help you!" Rukia waved weakly, and then disappeared out of the room, Leaving Tessai, Ururu, and Jinta to sit in the presence of the love show being put on by the devil, and his black cat.


	13. Chapter 11: Teacher

**GATA!**

**CHAPTER ELEVEN **:: **TEACHER****  
**

* * *

This was absolutely unbelievable! A complete mess! How could this happen to her? Rukia is so overwhelmed with swirling emotion that she has no idea how to cope with the idea that she will have to take care of— not an animal, but another actual human being— for god knows how long! How could her life go from normal to completely bat-shit crazy in the course of 24 hours? She knows how. She let Momo take her to a crazy witch shop, that's how!

Oh, Momo.

How would she even explain something like this to Momo? Of course she could not simply tell her the truth, she would be criticized, and not only that— she gave Kisuke her word that she would keep her mouth shut. And she could only imagine the harm he and the others in his shop could produce if she were to go against her word.

She's been sitting in her car, in the parking lot in front of her apartment building for a total of— seven minutes now. Her head was started to pulsate painfully from her pressing her forehead so hard against the steering wheel, her eyes closed. Thinking.

Maybe she would think better after a hot shower.

Finally, Rukia climbed out of her car and closed the door, locking her vehicle before she ascended up the stairs of her building. One flight, then two, then two more, to reach the third floor and the door to her home. Her home where her problems lied, in the form of a grown man who's probably sprawled out across her couch where she left him, in her brother's clothes.

She stabbed her key into the keyhole of the doorknob and turned, it was loose and turned easily, which intrigued her. Without another twist of the key, she turned the doorknob and pushed the door open— it'd already been unlocked. And seconds before entering, she heard a familiar charming _giggling _emerge from her apartment.

It was Momo. Speak of the devil!

And she and Ichigo were sitting on the ground in her living room on opposite sides of her coffee table, holding _her _playing cards. Blowing _her _mind. Both she and Ichigo looked up from their hands, Ichigo smiling, and Momo was the first to greet her, "Hey, Rukia! Where have you been—"

"How did you get into my apartment," Rukia questioned before Momo would finish her interrogative. She placed her purse on the table beside her front door and walked into her living room, pushing the door closed with her back. Never in a moments notice had she taken her eyes off the couple.

"Well, when you called me, I got worried. So I rushed down here as soon as I could, and the door was unlocked," Momo explained, "so then I thought you were home, but you weren't. And then, I ran into Ichigo in your bedroom!"

Her heart dropped down to her knees and shot back up into her throat, inhaling deeply through her nose, Rukia's mind began to panic. What could he have said to her? Did he spoil their secret—?

"And I thought he was a burglar! So at first, I started freaking out, and then when he told me his name I thought— he had to be a friend of yours! Isn't it funny, he has the same name as your cat boyfriend—?"

"He's not my boyfriend," Rukia snapped, "he's...I mean..._he's _not my boyfriend!"

Momo raised an elegant brown brow and turned her attention back to Ichigo, who stared at Rukia, and then glanced back down to his hand of cards. Rukia's face turns a hot pink and she quickly cups her hands to her cheeks to hide it. Why is she so embarrassed? And why does Momo almost look— like she was happy to hear that? "Not your boyfriend, huh?" She replied darkly, her voice full of grin, "How interesting. I figured as much."

"Wh—what is _that _supposed to mean?" She sounded almost _offended _by Momo's comment, and the tone shone brightly through her shrill voice. "It's not supposed to mean anything," Momo blinked, tilting her head in curiosity, "are you okay Rukia? You seem a little bit flustered.—"

"I'm fine!" Rukia blurted. She turned away from the two and pinched the skin between her eyes tightly, supporting herself on her arm with her hand pressed against the table, "I'm fine. I'm just tired," she lied.

"Well, I guess I'll leave then," Momo collected herself from the ground and laid her hand of cards out on the table, "I was losing anyway! Call me if you need anything, Rukia. Bye, Ichigo!" Rukia peeled herself away from the table and opened her front door wide to allow Momo the necessary leeway to _get out_. She waited until she had stepped fully past the door, and turned back to wave one more time at Ichigo, and he waved back.

She closed the door in the midst of their final farewells and stood in front of it with her arms crossed over her chest. Silently. Ichigo stood to his feet and once balanced, proceeded to walk towards Rukia, and pull her into his strong tight arms. He squeezed her closely to his warm body, and she stood completely still, paralyzed in shock, "I—what—_what are you doing_?"

"You're home," Ichigo replied shortly, "I missed you."

She was on fire now, burning to the brim with heat that shot throughout her entire body and lit her up like a christmas tree. This had been far less awkward when he was just a cat and she would come home to him, and he'd wrap his arms around her leg and maybe rub against her. But now...

_Jesus_.

Even his scent had changed, its intoxicating. Flooding her nostrils and clouding her mind, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to be soothed into his embrace, and then suddenly, all together— she pried away from him and in deep breaths swallowed gulps of fresh air. "_Ichigo_," she said, heavily sighing, "I know, this is a lot for you. It's a lot for me too. And it may take a little while, _but_, I've got the same people who turned you into this, working on a way to change you back."

"Change, back?" Ichigo responded in few words, "You mean? Back into...a cat?"

"Yeah! Back into a cat! Back into _my _cat," Rukia said, "but for now, you're human. So...you'll need to learn how to do..._human _things. Like how to read! And how to write, and get yourself dressed. I'll teach you everything I can...okay?"

"Okay...?"

"_Okay_," she mildly shouted and shot past Ichigo, making a straight walk towards the living room. She collected the cards and stacked them all neatly in a deck, replacing them in their box, and wandering down the hall into her bedroom, where she disappeared for several minutes. Ichigo stirred the carpet beneath his feet. He dragged his soles and curled his toes to pull up the soft fibers, savoring the sensation and feel his new skin allowed him. He shuffled across the floor, creating heat between his feet and the carpet, and then, touching the exterior of the leather couch, he experienced a quick and sharp shock.

He hissed in surprise, shaking his hand before staring at his fingers, again. Flexing them over and over, perplexed by their movement and length. They were so much longer and skinnier than the ones on his paws, and his nails were so much shorter. There was no more hair covering the planes of his body, no more tail, no more handicap to keep him from grabbing, gripping, and holding things with his actual hands. He brought his fingers to his ear, which was ringing, he was picking up a sound coming from somewhere in the apartment. Yes his keen sense of smell and hearing remained, and his blindness to some colors as well— but it hadn't bothered him, because it had been something he was used to as a feline.

Except now, he would be able to reach things that are high up off the ground without jumping or climbing from one place to another. Everything that was once so close to him was now so very far away, he felt like another life form, some kind of aerial creature that could hover over high places and make everything down below look so small. Even Rukia, who had once been the biggest and greatest thing in his life, seemed so small.

He shuffled across the room once more, coming to find the source of the buzzing sound. It is Rukia's cellphone buried beneath the clutter in her purse. Once he reaches the table, he places his hand upon the mahogany wood, and again, is shocked, and this time he doesn't react as intensely. But he does quickly remove his hand from the surface.

Maybe it was the way he touched things, he thought. He'd wondered, that if he touched Rukia, she would succumb to the same sensational shock that he was experiencing, and it frightened him. It hadn't hurt to him, but as for her, it could possibly do her harm— which he would avoid at all costs necessary even now. He touched the wall, and then the mirror hanging upon it, grazing the pads of his fingers against the glass. And he immediately tenses aggressively at the man in the glass.

He covers the man's face with his hand, plastered tightly against the face of the mirror, and clenches his fist as if he's caught him. And when he pulls his hand away to open his fist— there's nothing inside. Befuddled, Ichigo looks back up into the mirror and slightly turns his head, so that he can still see in his peripheral, that the man inside the glass was copying his movements.

It also confused him, that now all of a sudden when he touched things, they didn't shock him. He looked down at his feet and pinched the carpet with his toes, and thought that maybe, it had something to do with his stride instead of his actual touch. Rukia returned just before he made what had seemed to be an astonishing revelation, and stopped to behold him in his state of wonder.

"_Ichigo_," she called him out of his bewildered mindset and immediately, he returned his eyes to meet her. She was wearing a new change of clothes, a loose t-shirt and baggy pajama pants, things that were not new to him, because he's seen her wear them often. He's also seen these items of clothing on her brother, several years ago when he began to clean out his wardrobe, and Rukia stole several of his "comfort apparel". Things that she now allows Ichigo to wear. In her hand she holds a notebook and pen, and she's wearing the cutest expression of confusion on her face, "What are you _doing_?"

"Look," Ichigo insisted that she come to his side, and when she did, he pointed at the mirror, "there."

He turned back to look in the mirror, and to his astonishment— now _Rukia _was inside the glass! He looked back down at her physically, and then her reflection, "Now you!"

"Yes, that's our reflection Ichigo." Rukia explained, "This? This is a mirror. It's a glass that bends light and allows us to see ourselves. What you are looking at now, is our reflections. And that," She placed her finger atop the reflection of Ichigo's face, "that's you."

"You?"

"No— not _me_," Rukia reiterated, "_you_!"

"You." Ichigo repeated confidently, "That's you."

"No!" Rukia scoffed, losing her patience. It was easier being a parent to an animal that couldn't talk and didn't need to be taught quintessential things such as simple nouns such as this situation needed. She sighed quietly, pinching her forehead, and lowering her voice, "_Ichigo_. Do you see that man in the mirror?"

Ichigo nodded.

"That man is _Ichigo_."

"I'm Ichigo," Ichigo said. "Yes," Rukia chirped gingerly, "you are Ichigo! And he, is Ichigo too."

He wrinkled his face in misunderstanding. Rukia took him carefully by the hand, and turned his head to face the mirror. "Look," she said. She took his hand and brought his arm up so that he would touch his own face in front of the mirror. And suddenly, his eyes would light up, as if a light bulb had just flashed above his head, installing the idea of what this could mean into his scrambled brain. "It's me," he said, taking his other hand to place it to his face just to be sure.

"Yes!" Rukia cheered, elated. "Yes, you got it! Good job Ichigo...! Ichigo?" Her downpour of happiness would soon wash aside, when she would look to find Ichigo staring ceaselessly at his own reflection. He touched his face, over and over again. Raking his fingers through his hair, and tapping his teeth. "It's me," he spoke again in a darker tone, and continued to ravish his face, rubbing over and over the same spots of skin. Rukia took his hand in her's away from his face, and began to pull him away from the mirror.

"It won't be much longer now," she said to him softly, "come on. I'll teach you some more stuff. And then we can move on to other things. Would you like that?"

He nodded his head, following her into the living room and joined her on the couch where she opened the notebook. Pen in hand. "Now I'm going to teach you letters, in the alphabet, starting with the letter, _A_..."

~X~

"I..." Ururu squeaked hesitantly, looking over the long table of glasses and jars and vials before her, basically, everything except every book in the lab had been extracted and laid out before her here. Kisuke made it this way, so that he could observe her in action, "I don't think I can do it Mr. Urahara..."

"Of course you can," Kisuke replied. He pat her gently on the back, being at her side was the most comfortable thing he could offer, as well as allowing him a first hand look at the procedure once she began, "Just take your time. Think very hard, it's important that you show me everything you did to make that potion. Can you do that Ururu?"

"Yes," she nodded confidently, "I...I'll try!"

Ururu looked back to the table and exhaled, she collectively took the things she had used in the lab, and put them all on the empty space of the table necessary to fit her ingredients. "And then I used, this..." She said, and reached for the small, empty vial of what _would be _the same venom she used from before, "Oh! That's right!"

"What is?" Kisuke questioned. Ururu shook the empty vial before his eyes, showing him the label, "The procedure required two drops of venom! I added the drops, and then I accidentally spilled the rest when I spilled...um...uh..."

"Think," he pressed further into her mind with words, "what did you spill?"

"I...I...don't know."

"What did it look like?"

"It was already there when I opened the portal," she whined, "it was purple...and it was runny, and it smelled kind of floral?"

"Did it smell like lavenders?"

"Yeah!" Ururu chimed loudly, "It did, and it was in a vial!"

"That sounds like the potion I was working on to make more of Ms. Rukia's candles...okay! So I know the ingredients and the procedure exactly for that, I can replicate the lavender elixir, and then from there...we can work to find out what else was added to it to from your experience!"

She nodded her head wildly, excited for the first time in the entire day by the progression the both of them were making. "Okay! And then, I added...or was it before then...there was hosta root, two roots, and one ounce of ground tusk..."

"Was there any water?"

"Spring water," Ururu answered, "the procedure said to fill the container half way with spring water! And then add...um...the atheris hispida venom..."

"Which we are out of," Kisuke sighed in woe. He took the vial in his hand, and examined it closely before his eyes once more, "the snake it so rare...finding it again will be quite the challenge. And then there's the task of milking it's venom without being injured..."

"I'm sorry for all the trouble I've made Mr. Urahara," Ururu bowed her head, apologetic and fretful. Kisuke gave her a reassuring pet on the head and smiled warmly to ease her troubles, "Don't worry Ururu. Together we'll triumph! And we'll make the potion exactly how you did, and figure out how to make up for your mistake. Everyone makes mistakes, so it's fine!"

"Even you make mistakes?"

"Of course! Why, I make the biggest mistakes of us all," he laughed, "but don't worry. Because the harder we work, the more confident I am that we can fix this. But, in order to fix this, you have to be confident too. Can you do that, Ururu?"

"Yes sir!" She complied with strength behind her retort. Kisuke chuckled again, and tapped her on the chin before he brought his hand back down to the table. "I know it's been a few hours...you must be getting hungry."

"You know I don't get hungry Mr. Urahara," she brought her hands to her stomach, and rubbed it gently, "this body doesn't _need _food!"

"But you should still eat, to build up your spirit strength! And anyway, your body may not need food, but mine certainly does," he retaliated playfully, "so come on. We'll go make us some lunch, and then we'll get back to figuring out how we'll make our potion..."

~X~

Rukia groaned quietly, her eyes and body heavy with sleep— how long had she been out? She finally opened her eyes to experience the darkness that consumed both her, and the living room. Not a drop of sunlight came through her windows, an indication that night time had fallen and taken away their day. She spent hours on top of hours with Ichigo, and it showed, in the form of papers all over the table and floor. Covered in scribbled and illegible print made...somewhat legible. She'd had him write his name a few _hundred _times, and write other words of everyday items like apple, and book.

Also littering her living room, were empty bags of chips, junk food, and plastic bottles. They'd eaten and drank without moving much at all, or getting away from the lesson. Her mind was heavy, and her head, throbbing painfully.

The weight of Ichigo lying on top of her stomach had become unbearable in her state of awareness. He had his arms wrapped around her waist, and wouldn't let her go for any reason at all, nor did he budge when she wriggled uncomfortably beneath him. He was exhausted, burned out completely and not even her movement would awaken him. So escaping should be easy, but easier said than done.

Rukia felt above her head on the ground and grabbed a hold of the backboard with both hands, pulling herself up, and then slipping her legs out from beneath Ichigo's torso. She'd made it now so that she was free from his grip, and her body was sore and numb from the pressure he put on it. She looked down to the mess, huffing heavily so that she blew the strands of loose dark hair out of her face, and murmured, "_I'll clean up in the morning_..."

With caution, she came to her feet and maneuvered around the clutter on the floor to keep from making too much a sound while she made her escape. She lingered down the hall and to her bedroom, and stripped the blankets from her mattress, returning to the living room, and behind the couch. She fanned the blankets out above Ichigo, letting them fall down perfectly to encase his body, cover him where he lied, and when satisfied, she returned to the hall and to her bedroom.

It was there, she engaged in the final action of crawling into her bed, and beneath the thin sheets that were left on her pillow top mattress. And slowly, she drifted into a light sleep, interrupted by the sound of clattering in the living room.

Despite the heaviness of her eyelids, she tried to open them, and failed when her body refused to allow her sight of her room any longer. She felt the bounce of her mattress, and the brisk rush of air that struck her body, and then, the softness of her blanket returning to her. Even without opening her eyes, she knew it was him. Ichigo coming into her room, and joining her in her bed. He always does, she should've known this wouldn't change even _with _him being as he is now.

She wouldn't protest, she was much too tired for it, and she knew, he was much too tired to listen or care. No— he would care. He was still loyal and obedient, and he needed her. He needed her as much as she needed him, for obvious reasons, and then some. And quite possibly, the most important reason of all being, that he loved her. And she loved him. Even as he was now, he was still her very best friend.

She allowed him to take his arms around her again, and pull her in close to his heat. Past the point of exhaustion and way too exhausted to feel embarrassed, she simply came to sleep against him. And together, they both slipped into a comfortable slumber.


	14. Chapter 12: The Side Effects

**GATA!**

**CHAPTER TWELVE **:: **THE SIDE EFFECTS**

* * *

Silver chimes of sound echo in the silence of the shop, Jinta, who sits at the front desk behind the register, looks up to acknowledge his company. Rukia in her denim cut-off shorts and white short sleeve top. It's understandable attire, considering the insurmountable heat that's been pushing people to their limits lately. Even inside the store, it was scorching hot. A comfortable environment for Jinta, but a personal hell for all others.

She came early as instructed, and with a small satchel on her side, and Ichigo clambering closely behind her. She looked to her left, and then her right, "Where's Mr. Urahara?"

"_Out_," Jinta yawned, "outta the country in fact. Said he's gotta go find some snake to get some...whatever to finish making your order or somethin'. Said it could be a couple o' weeks."

A couple of _weeks_. Rukia sighed, entering the shop further until she'd made it to the back room, and turned around to ask, "And Ururu?"

"Still up since yesterday tryin' to figure out how she screwed up and made the potion in the first place," Jinta grumbled, "when you get in the back, go to the double doors on your right. Just knock. The old lady's been expecting you. 'S that your cat boy?"

He inspected Ichigo closely from head to toe in his form. He was tall, a good foot or two taller than Rukia for sure— and then he thought to himself that before Ichigo's transformation he must've been a _big_ cat. Rukia pushed the door to the side and guided Ichigo into the back room by his hand. Immediately upon entering, she could tell that he must've picked up something in his senses by the way he'd begun to behave. He looked distraught now, his grip on Rukia's hand had tightened to the point where it'd almost became painful, but he immediately lightened it, and pulled away.

As instructed, Rukia came to the set of doors on her left, and hesitantly, she stood before them. She raised her fist and knocked twice, taking two baby steps back, while Ichigo stood to her side, and he's still tense with distress. He extended his arm out in front of her as if to hold her back from something, moments before the doors began to open, and Rukia too began to feel the pressure of something more powerful than just the both of them.

Yoruichi's face began to emerge from the darkness, and once completely unveiled, Rukia lit up with embarrassment. Yoruichi was even less dressed than she was! She wore _lingerie_, a bustier styled top and panties, did this woman have any clothes!? Ichigo hadn't been nearly as flustered as Rukia, in fact, he was still completely defensive.

"Welcome back!" Yorucihi exclaimed, "Sorry if I seem _overdressed_ for the occasion—" Rukia covered her burning red face after the woman's words, "come on in! Did you bring everything I asked you too?"

"Y—yeah," Rukia cleared her throat sternly and reached for the bag on her side, "everything's here...you called me this morning and told me to bring Ichigo...?"

"For his picture," Yoruichi scoffed, "he's going to need a photo for his license! Also, I'll need to get a good feel for his face for when I morph his image to make him look younger for his yearbook photo.—"

"Yearbook photo?" Rukia's eyes widened in awe, "You can really put his picture in a yearbook?"

"Come in, and I'll show you, I can do _a lot _more than you think."

Yoruichi stepped aside, she held her hand out and escorted them both in, Rukia first, and Ichigo right on her heels. Once inside Rukia's head swiveled, she examined the room in amazement of its immensity. Looking from the outside no one would ever even think that such an enormous room would exist as part of the shop! The room itself was a staggering six shops combined, decorated so casually, as if being Yoruichi's very own add-on _house_.

She led them to a portion of the room reminiscent of a living room, where the small table in the center of the room had only two candles, and three pillows on all sides of it to seat them. "Place everything on the table, spread out on the surface. At least an inch away from each other."

Frantically, Rukia began to empty the contents of her bag onto the table. Starting with the thick manila folder that held all of her legal documents, her birth certificate, her physicals, citizenship and so on. And beside it, she placed an empty spiral notebook.

"Your driver's license and ID too," Yoruichi insisted. She'd almost began to question the woman's incentive, but alas, she knew what she was doing, and Rukia had not. She sighed and reached into her pocket for her small black leather wallet, where inside she dug out her driver's license, and ID. She flung them both on the table, and then, straightened them. And then she turned her ID upside down. Yoruichi raised her brow inquisitively, "They'll need to be face up for me to collect the full physical appearance."

"Don't laugh," Rukia squeaked. Begrudgingly, she turned her license over, and squeezed her eyes closed. Both Ichigo and Yoruichi looked curiously at the photo, and Yoruichi snorted— to hold back her laughter. It was Rukia back at age seventeen or so. She had longer hair pulled up in a ponytail, with flyaway hairs all over. Yoruichi couldn't see her shirt, but she could tell it was baggy. Her smile was wide— and _forced_— and her braces were thick and wiry with thick rubber bands around her brackets.

Ichigo remembers this phase of Rukia vividly, so it was no surprise to him the sight of her appearance. But the photo. The photo was _hysterical_.

"Okay okay," Yoruichi murmured, her voice was shrill and filled with giggles hidden behind her words, "moving on. Before we get started, I'll need to take some pictures of Ichigo here. So if you could, would you stand in front of that white wall for me Ichigo?"

He glanced at Rukia once before looking back at Yoruichi, and then at the wall. "Go on," Rukia insisted, "just do what she tells you for now. I'm right here." She doesn't think it's her distance put between them that's bothering Ichigo, but it's the thought of following orders from Yoruichi. He's stubborn, he always has been, Rukia knew. As a kitten he would only do something if _Rukia _asked him to, and this is what made him such a non-hit with Byakuya. But still, he'd obeyed Rukia and Yoruichi and took his place in front of a plain white wall.

He stood stationary, only his head and his gaze traveling— which was beginning to annoy Yoruichi as she'd tried to snap Ichigo's photo on her surprisingly modern cellphone. "Hold this," she handed the phone to Rukia, and much to Rukia's surprise— it was nicer than her own phone! Yoruichi thundered to Ichigo and wrapped her hands firmly around his head and hair, "Will you hold _still_—"

She cried out in alarm, and inhaled, the breath had become stuck in her throat— her head jerked back as if it were going to dislodge from her shoulders. She began to shake and shudder, the grasp on Ichigo's head tightening, until he took her by the wrists and removed her trembling hands from his skull. Yoruichi wailed in relief, her breath coming back to her in erratic huffs, she dropped her head and sighed, looking up into Ichigo's befuddled— concerned eyes.

And all the while, Rukia was too involved in Yoruichi's cellphone to notice any of the event that took place. Yoruichi whipped around to notice the young woman fiddling with the device, racking through her apps and her phone's features—

"Gimme that," she hissed, and snatched her phone out of Rukia's hands. Yoruichi stumbled a bit, and closed her eyes, her hand flying up to cover her forehead and she ceased all movement to catch stable footing. "Are you alright," Rukia questioned, "is something wrong?"

"I'm fine," Yoruichi snapped, "I...I'm fine."

She turned back around to face Ichigo, and held her phone up, steady in front of her so that she'd capture his photo from the shoulders up. The flash startled him, and he squeezed his eyes shut, before opening them again, blinking ravenously. "Alright," Yoruichi said, "join me at the table. This'll only take a moment."

Rukia came to Ichigo's aid, as he was still blinking and rubbing his eyes. She took him by the wrist and pulled him behind her, over to the table with Yoruichi. Where she sat on one side, and he sat on the other side of Yoruichi, leaving her in the middle, before the two candles. Yoruichi brought her hand to hover above the first candle, and inhaled slowly. Before their very eyes, a flame fluttered to life from nothing, and burned the wick. Rukia nearly jumped in amazement, but contained herself coolly, as Yoruichi took the first candle and tilted it to use it's flame to ignite the second.

"Where's the list?" Yoruichi interrogated Rukia. Rukia tilted her head curiously, and Yoruichi rolled her eyes, "The _list_. The list I asked you to make with his first name and surname? And his date of birth—"

"_Oh_!" Rukia chirped, "I've got it."

She dug through her bag one more time to pull out a slip of folded paper, unfolding it carefully, and handing it to Yoruichi who read it to herself. "_Kurosaki_?" She announced in question, "Your ID says _Kuchiki_..."

"It's his first owner's last name," Rukia blurted in explanation, "he's originally from the Kurosaki home, so...I chose that for him instead."

"Whatever you want," Yoruichi shrugged. She placed the paper gently on the table in front of her and took a deep breath, closed her eyes, demanding that the others do the same, "Seal your eyes shut. The process can not be seen, or it will not work. And no matter what, do not open your eyes or it will fail to complete."

Rukia swallowed nervously. She looked to Yoruichi, who's head had already been bowed and eyes closed. And then to Ichigo, who surprisingly, took to Yoruichi's demand and squeezed his own eyes closed. Finally, she too shut her eyes, and squeezed them closed tighter, as Yoruichi began to recite her cryptic mantra.

Yoruichi's hands hovered and swayed above the items on the table in a repetitive cycle along with her recital. None of them could see it, but they could feel the heat from the candles intensifying, and the flame growing, and dancing. Rukia gasped and sealed her mouth shut, the urge to open her eyes powerful, but her willpower more so. She wondered if Ichigo still had _his _eyes closed, and then discarded the thought. Of course he did. No matter how stubborn he was, he was honest and obedient...for the most part.

Finally, after what felt like hours in this heat— but had only turned out to be ten minutes in the end— the flame from the candles died to sweet smelling smoke, and Yoruichi sniffed loudly. And sighed louder. "It's done," she said, "you may both open your eyes."

Rukia's eyes exploded open, finally. And they opened to find Yoruichi, with a second thick manila folder in her hand, aside from Rukia's, concealing the information inside and sealing it. "That's—" Rukia stuttered, astonished, "that's...that's it?"

"Yep," Yoruichi chirped, "everything you'll need is right here in this envelope. A birth certificate, some physicals, doctor's notes, you name it." She flipped a laminated card in between her fingers, and pointed it out at Rukia, "Here's his license, and ID."

"License?" She shook her head as she retrieved the card, "Ichigo can't drive..." Rukia glanced down at the card and blinked in bewilderment. It was Ichigo's picture off the side, on such an official looking card, identical to her own besides the information upon it. It read with a nine digit ID number, a false "date issued" date, expiration date, date of birth, and his name:

_Kurosaki, Ichigo_.

DOB: July 15th 1991

Sex: M

Height: 182 cm

Weight: 78 kg

And Rukia's address.

She was completely silent, overwhelmed with awe to believe that such a convincing license was made in such short time— and illegally! "Also, he is now part of the system," Yoruichi added, "he is in the census. He is a citizen, and if completely necessary, although I doubt it— any employer looking to hire him will be able to run a background check him. He's got a record.—"

"A _record_!?" Rukia yelped, "You made him a _felon_?"

"A _clean_ record!" Yoruichi reitterated, her hands thrown up in surrender, "Jesus."

"_Sorry_," Rukia mumbled.

"Anyway, that's all for now. If I think of anything else I can do, I'll call back. Take these, and take _good _care of them." Yoruichi handed Rukia both the thick heavy envelopes and pushed them on their way, only once Ichigo was completely out of the room, she took Rukia by the wrist and tugged her back inside. "Might I have a quick word with you, before you rush off?"

Rukia stared momentarily, and then looked back to Ichigo, "I'll only be a minute," she said. Ichigo narrowed his eyes, but nodded. And he disappeared, behind the closing doors.

"_Rukia_," Yoruichi began without formalities of any sort, "I...it's about Ichigo. He's in danger."

Rukia knitted her brows in confusion. She shook her head and fluttered her eye's lids, "Danger?"

"I'm not certain to say but, when I touched him. I saw it." She ground out hesitantly, "Ichigo's new form is taking a huge toll on his body. His brain is beginning to develop far more than it ever was. He's changing, he's becoming more human, and I don't know when but...pretty soon. His memory will deteriorate. And he'll forget everything that he's ever known as your cat."

"W—_what_?" Rukia snatched herself out of the woman's grip, "That's not true...he can't just forget.—"

"I'm sorry."

"No!" She raised her voice in frustration, "No— no, you don't understand! Ichigo's _not _just a cat! He's not just a pet, he was never just an animal, or a possession to me, he's my friend! He's my _best_ friend! There has to be something..."

Yoruichi shook her head slowly in denial.

"_Nothing..._?"

"I can send out a message to Kisuke and inform him that he needs to find whatever other ingredients are necessary with haste. But until then, there's nothing we...or anybody can do. Soon, if not before we turn him back, he will have become completely human. He will experience symptoms of his changing, starting with his loss of senses. Mood swings, as his nature will become more of man's. He may become _violent_, or aggressive." Yoruichi shrunk back in her assertive tone and had began to speak lightly, "All I can say for sure is that the process has already begun, his mind's _already_ changing. It may be weeks before he's completely changed. Or maybe months, or at this rate? _Days_. There's no exact way to tell. That's all I know. I'm sorry."

Rukia lowered her shoulders, her hardened stare softened to expose her scared internal emotion. She looked down at her feet, her mind racing with questions— things to say and how to say them. Conflicts and arguments that could be raised and expressions of anger, sadness, and confusion. "Thanks..." She spoke softly. She turned her back to Yoruichi and placed a weak hand on the door, her head bowed and her voice dark, "thanks for uh...thanks for everything..."

She slid open the doors and immediately, she corrected her posture. As sad and disappointed a she may have been, she refused to make it physically obvious to those on the outside— especially to _him_. She would pursue her day with straight face and walk out with her dignity in tact, if only this had anything to do with dignity. From a woman who hasn't shed a single tear in the presence of a single person since fourteen, she would not begin now. And so she stepped out of the room, and left Yoruichi speechless inside.

Several steps out and she comes to the second set of doors, opening them, and finds Ichigo and Jinta at the front desk acting rather casually. Both men look up to acknowledge her, Jinta for the second time— and he notices her woe even through the thick exterior she's put on. There's not a single doubt that Ichigo does too.

"Everything go okay back there?" Jinta asked. Rukia nodded frantically and cleared her throat, "I—" she coughed, "I uh. I'm just tired still. I think I'm going to go home now."

"Why don't you take some more candles?"

"I think I'm good," she insisted and came closer to take Ichigo by the hand. "Come on. We're going now. Thanks for everything."

Jinta grunted, disheveled. He dove down under the desk and it was there he stayed for some moments, until he exploded back up into plain sight and inserted something into a brown paper bag. Shoving it at Rukia feverishly, "Take it. And get out."

She blinked, silent. And took the bag from his hands, pulling it closely to her chest, "Tha...thank you.—"

"Just beat it already!" Jinta snapped ferociously, "Before Tessai shows up and gives me a hard time for giving away merchandise!"

She tried all but too hard not to laugh, and a small giggle escaped from her lips. Rukia rushed out the door, pulling Ichigo along with her. He seemed so unaware, so unknowing of the bad that would be soon to come, and this, was at least relieving for her. The last thing she'd want is for him to spend his time worrying, and upset. And so she smiled, and assured him that things are fine— and that things would be fine, when even she was unsure of the truth behind that statement.

But if his memories were going to go, then at the least, she could make sure that his last ones, were fond ones, with her in them.

~X~

Upon arriving to her apartment, it was not she, but Ichigo who was the exhausted one. He entered their home and immediately, fell into the couch in the messy living room.

Oh yeah, that's right.

She put off cleaning it this morning as well.

She blew a sigh of distress and dropped her satchel on the side table— seconds before it began to erupt with buzzing. It was her cellphone, buried deep beneath the rubble. Rukia rushed to dig deep into the bag and pull out with her phone in hand, her eyes growing twice their size in appall of the name that'd appeared on her screen.

_Orihime Inoue_

Her mouth dropped, she flapped her hand wildly, and panted. Stopping, to collect herself, and catch her breath, before she answered in a cool casual voice, "Hello?"

"Hello," Orihime greeted in return. Her voice is so chipper and sweet, even on the transmitter she sounded so charming, "Is this Rukia Kuchiki?"

"This is she," Rukia replied, trying to sound as flat as possible to hide her excess excitement. "This is Orihime Inoue! Owner of _Sweet Dreams _cafe, how are you?"

"I'm great!" Rukia yelled, rather than speaking calmly, "Thank you for asking! And yourself?"

"I'm going well," she laughed, "you sound very excited!"

"Well— yes, I—I am excited! I mean, I'm excited because you called!—"

"Fantastic! Then it'll make you even more excited to have you know, that I'd like to have you in for an interview tomorrow."

Rukia threw her head back, silently screaming, she jumped in place and stamped her feet on the ground victoriously— "Yes of course! At what time should I arrive?"

"Is two o'clock a convenient time for you?"

"It's perfect," Rukia exclaimed, "thank you!"

"No, Ms. Kuchiki, thank _you_!" Orihime shined back with glee, "I'll see you at two o'clock tomorrow! Enjoy the rest of your day!"

Ending the call with a final farewell Rukia could ejected every bit of joy from her lungs now in shrill expressions of shouts and bubbly laughter. She hopped around in an endless circle, breaking away from her path when she ran to her couch and to Ichigo, "I'm so _excited_," she sang. Except, she got no reply. Not even a smile or a questionable look. What she received in reply, was nothing.

But silence.

He was fast asleep, breathing lightly against the cushion of the couch, his eyes closed and his mouth open. He must've truly been exhausted to be so unresponsive. She wonders what could've made him so sleepy, and then looks to all the mess on the floor and table. She'd almost forgotten how hard he was trying for her, to be as best as he can possibly be.

She knelt at the edge of the couch, resting her head in her arms folded on the cushions. Inches from his face, and he had absolutely no idea. She took her fingers and played with his hair, gently enough so that he would not be stirred awake. She may or may not have realized it up until this very moment but, he was a lot more handsome up close. In such a peaceful state, and so calm. And tranquil—

_Whoa_. She laid the palms of her hands on her warm cheeks. Was she blushing? Maybe it was the thought of having an attractive man living in her apartment, sleeping in the same bed with her, getting _hit on _by her friends— _friend_. Was he really that handsome?

Yes, he was. And now that she herself has noticed it, it is a thought that will never be erased from her foggy head, or clouded mind. "_Christ_," she huffed loudly, and stood up from the ground to look over the mess on the floor. Should she clean it now? Or should she call Momo to meet her over at the mall to tell her of her good news, have a laugh, and possibly, get a nice shirt or skirt to wear to her interview tomorrow?

Yeah. The answer to that question was obvious.

She went back to the door, and collected her phone, and her purse from off the table, beside her satchel. And out the door she went, leaving Ichigo to rest peacefully on the couch, a midst the messy living room.


	15. Chapter 13: The Interview

**GATA!**

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN **:: **THE INTERVIEW**

* * *

It's twelve in the afternoon. Rukia woke up a lot later than she'd planned to, and although she had two hours to actually arrive to her interview, she was frantic. Because it _took _two hours to figure out what to wear, how to get dressed, how her hair should look, _especially _to interviews. Not that she could do much with her hair, in it's current short state. It was still a thought.

She was in full fledged panic mode, rolling out of her bed and colliding with the floor. She'd gasped once she hit the ground and jumped up to peek over the edge, in fear that she'd rolled over—

_Ichigo_?

He wasn't there. He'd always been there, but today, he wasn't there. It was an awkward find, and to think she'd almost had a heart attack just now. Until she remembered that Ichigo was no longer a small animal, but an adult man who was fully capable of taking her toppling over him a few times. She rushed to the bathroom, and to the bathroom sink, which she turned on, and squeezed _more _than enough toothpaste on her toothbrush. Commencing to assaulting her teeth with the pasted bristles. She turned on her shower in the very same moment she'd spent brushing her teeth, and even more miraculous to her multitasking, she'd began to disrobe.

Hopping on one foot to take off her pajama pants, and kicking them off to the side of the bathroom next to the clean cat litter box. And then she spat into the sink, and removed her shirt and undergarments.

Once completely nude, she rushed into the shower, without testing it's waters, and shrilled in alarm at the cold onslaught. Warmer waters poured as she turned the knob, and sighed in relief, commencing to scrubbing every inch of her skin and body with her cherry blossom body wash.

After a decent ten minutes of merciless scrubbing she left the shower and turned off the flow of water. She wrapped herself in a white towel, and brushed her hand across the mirror to create a clear streak through the fog, to examine herself. Her hair was soaked and flat, but with a quick drying with her towel, all of that was fixed. Of course it hadn't been dried to the root, but for now this would do, while she tried to figure out what to wear.

After yesterday's "celebration" with Momo she came home with— a lot more than she expected. A very harsh blow to her current financial standpoint. But hopefully, if she got the job— _no_. _When _she got the job, with a higher pay all would be well! She took to dumping the content of each bag out and on her bed. Hell, there were clothes she didn't even _need_! Just thing's she'd tried on for fun, and Momo pressured her to into buying most of them. None of them which, she could look professional for an interview.

For instance this skin tight, backless, black crop top is definitely something she wouldn't wear to an interview. Nor would she wear the "destroyed acid washed" denim jeans she bought, or this sheer blouse...she wouldn't even _wear _half of this stuff, much less would she have bought it if Momo wasn't there to push her into doing so. Momo had a much more "youthful" sense of fashion, while Rukia's was modest and "grandmother-ish", as Momo would describe it. In fact, as most people would describe it.

She was always the one to choose a longer uglier dress, or short pathetic heels. Momo had more fashionable taste and preferred things she knows look great, or things that appeal to her. Often times she'd help Rukia dress for things like parties, which she rarely attended. And even on one occasion they went to a club for Rukia's twenty-first birthday, another rare scenario. But alas, she wasn't here now, and it was probably a good thing considering how messy the place was at the moment.

She changed and changed and tried on outfit after outfit. And finally after forty-five minutes of decision making she concluded that a coral blazer atop her white lacy shirt, one thing from which their trip to the mall led her to buy. And beige pants with white ballet flats, she put it together herself, and surprisingly, she looked absolutely great.

She took her brown purse from the closet and replaced all of her things from the black one into it, throwing the strap around her shoulder and looking at her silver wrist watch which read: 1:05 PM.

A little short of an hour left, and she wasn't even on her way! This absolutely peeved her considering that she's never been late to anything. _Ever_.

Rukia rushed out of her bedroom and into the living room, almost leaving before she stopped in front of the mirror on the wall beside her door, and played a little more in her hair. She tried at pushing the strand that fell between her eyes off the side and out of her face, but it fell back down into place. And she huffed, making it fly up and land down again. Behind her reflection, she caught a glimpse of her couch, and a foot hanging off of it.

She turned around to find Ichigo, _still _sleeping, still on the couch, only his position was slightly different now that his head had turned and his body had hung loosely. He looked kinda funny lying there, but it concerned her that he had not moved since early afternoon yesterday. He's acting just as tired and slow paced as he was when he was an aging feline. And it's begun to worry her tremendously.

She came to his side on the couch and hovered over him, leaning forward to try and see his face on the other side, "Ichigo?"

He hadn't responded, but he moved. A sign of life, but she was unsatisfied with just that. She wiggled his ear with her fingers and he swatted her hand away gently, rolling over on his back with his hand on his abdomen. His eyes slowly sliding open. They were a lot darker, then they were days ago, and yesterday. A more cocoa brown rather than their usual glowing amber gold. But her slung his forearm over his eyes to shield them from the light, and groaned.

"Ichigo," Rukia said, concerned, "are you okay? You haven't moved since yesterday. Do you feel sick?"

He didn't respond, the only sound she got from him was a deep inhale, and an exhale. Maybe he hadn't the words to respond? She leaned further down to him and pressed her hand to his cheek, and when he moved his arm to look at her, she pressed it to his forehead. Ichigo jerked her down by the arm, he pulled her so that she'd fell over him, and he could bury his nose in the pulse of her neck and inhale her.

He also wrapped his arms around her figure, with his hands gliding over her back, he squeezed her to him tightly and breathed hotly into her ear.

"_You smell good_," he spoke gruffly, his voice dark and sultry. Rukia's face lit up in embarrassment, so much and so hot that it was unmistakable that smoke had blown out of her ears.

"I—_chigo_—"

"_Don't go yet_," he purred heavily, and closed his eyes and pressed his nose against her skin. Rukia jolted, her body tense and frozen. Not a second later did she pry away and free herself from his arms, holding over him with her hands against his chest. "What?" She questioned, flustered, "What did you say?"

He took a hold of her wrists and grasped them firmly, his eyes dark and latent with desire, if she's ever seen it. Rukia drew backwards and collected herself once again, patting her hands to her cheeks, "I—I have to leave now! I'll— I'll be back in an hour!" She fumbled with her words and rushed to head out the door, "There's food in the fridge, don't make a mess, bye—!"

She slammed the door in her frantic hurry to escape, so hard that she was sure the mirror on the wall fell off. But she didn't care. She was too embarrassed to care. She hurried down the flights of stairs to bring her to the first floor, and rushed into her car, closing and locking the door. Holding on tightly to her steering wheel, frozen.

What was _that_? She thought inwardly to herself, what it felt like to be that close to a man who's eyes were so intently set on you with such...

She shook the image from her head immediately, and slammed it on the steering wheel.

"Forget it," she breathed, "you have an interview to ace. Don't mess this up, Kuchiki."

~X~

She had arrived later than she would've liked, about four minutes later to be precise. And she was _always _precise. She fret upon exiting her vehicle and coming to the cafe doors, looking down to the face of her watch one last time. 1:55 PM.

If she were here earlier, she could've made a better impression. She could've beat the traffic caused by an unexpected accident on the main road bringing her here, which costed her a good twenty minutes of screaming and hair tearing, as police tried to instruct the drivers. But after everything, she made it, and even if it's cutting it close, she made it before she would actually be considered _late_.

She burst into the cafe gleefully, inhaling the sweet fragrant smell of pastries wafting in the air, and savory scents, the smell of teas and coffee, and the chatter of customers. This place was always bustling, it was no wonder the owner of the establishment was always so radiant and gleeful. This place kept her young! This place was amazing!

Which made her worry.

What if she wasn't good enough to be a part of the experience?

She pressed her fingers to her chin and evaluated her possibilities, nervously. "Ma'am?" A female's voice swooped in and caught Rukia's attention. It was the woman at the front of the cafe, behind the white podium, dressed very cutely like a maid from one of those shoujo manga's Rukia could never get into. "May I help you? Would you like a table for one?"

"Oh, no," Rukia laughed nervously, "I'm here for an interview! I'm scheduled to meet Ms. Inoue at two o'clock?"

"Ah, yes!" The girl chirped, "She just called! She'll be late coming in today, because of the traffic—"

Rukia cheered inwardly.

"—if you'd like I could get you seated with a cup of tea while you wait."

"It's fine," Rukia clamored to take her seat on one of the plush pink heart-shaped benches on the wall, "I'll just wait."

And wait she did. She waited for several excruciating minutes, minutes spent with her mind racing with doubt and superficial answers to questions that may not even be asked. Come to think of it— she didn't even practice! On the inside, she was tearing her hair out like a mad woman, but on the outside she seemed calm. It was only a matter of time before she'd be put on the spot, her horrible people's skills and small talk would be shining in the spotlight.

She bit on the nail of her thumb and chewed, anxious. Think about something else, Kuchiki.

Alright.

How about Momo? She wondered what she was up to now— but the answer to that question was easy. She was exercising more than likely. How about Renji? She hasn't spoken to him in a couple of days. Although she knows he's sleeping, as a construction worker his job creates a lot of stress and exhaustion for him. He works all hours of the day into the night, and the time he spends at home is time spent asleep. What she was truly worrying about was Kisuke.

Would he return in time to make the potion and treat Ichigo? Yoruichi said it could be days before his mind is erased, and he's fully transformed. And Jinta said Kisuke would be absent for _weeks_. It was a game of fate at this point, a waiting game where the clock never stopped ticking, and the loser was sure to be Rukia. With that thought in mind, she began to process how she would even continue on living with Ichigo if he suddenly forgot everything. Was that even an option?

Don't think about that, she shook the thought from her head and exhaled. Think about. Think about this morning. Think about Ichigo.

Yes, this morning with Ichigo. _What's gotten into him_? Before he was so innocently clueless, still learning and barely able to create coherent sentences without Rukia's guidance. Now, his feline traits are beginning to disappear. His eyes are more human, and his voice has changed. He's speaking coherently, and for some reason, he's become a lot more...is seductive the appropriate word? How about, a lot less innocent.

Rukia was blushing just thinking about this morning, how close they were and how gruff and sultry his voice had been. The look in his eyes, the way he talked to her, the heat of his breath against her skin.

"_Whoa_," Rukia breathed, "_what are you doing_?"

_Stop this at once! This is no place to be thinking about that kind of stuff__!_

But still, it was the first time a man has ever looked at her that way. Not with arrogant eyes of lust, just looking for a piece of ass or a one night stand. But with eyes that said, "I want you"— no. "I_ need _you".

Is he in heat?

He's too old to be in heat! Rukia pat her warm cheeks to subside their pinkness. But just imagine, if he _was _in heat...

_He's my best friend_, she thought. That look could've been anything now that she thought about it! He _was _half asleep and she _did _awaken him. Maybe there was just sleep in his eyes. Perhaps he was having a euphoric dream and his eyes were still hazed, maybe to him, she looked like an angel. She clasped her hands around her face to hide her embarrassment from the waitress at the podium. This was too much.

How could she know what desire in a person's eyes look like, when she herself has never seen it in real life— and not in one of those ero-films she shamelessly owns. Or shamefully.

Speaking of which, she definitely needs to contact Momo about the whereabouts of one of those films went! Her favorite one in fact—

"I'm sorry I'm late," Orihime's voice erupted and cast Rukia away from her thought process. She was out of breath, with her jacket thrown over her arm— Jesus she looked fantastic! So cute, yet sexy in a mix that Rukia could not explain or even hope to replicate. Her legs were exquisite in the sheer white stockings bathing them, disappearing inside of her black pumps. She skirt that's sort of tight, and black with lace at the hem. Her blouse was white and button-up with a gold-tipped collar, and her long beautiful hair was left to flow down her backside.

Rukia blushed upon just _seeing _her. She must've been an angel— or an idol in high school. There was no doubt about it, she was desired by possibly every one of her classmates. Which sparked a hint of jealousy, but admiration in Rukia, seeing how the woman had matured and grown to be intelligent, and beautiful. And successful.

Orihime looked to Rukia and smiled, rushing to her with her hand extended. Rukia quickly stood up and took the woman's hand, shaking it happily.

"A pleasure seeing you again Ms. Kuchiki," Orihime smiled and sang melodically, "how are you?"

"I'm—I'm great! And you? You _look _great—" Rukia had no idea why she'd said that, or how she even let it slip off her tongue. She'd already deducted a point from her possibility of having this be a smooth interview. "Thank you very much! And I'm doing great myself! You," Orihime paused. She stepped back, her hand still locked with Rukia, glancing her up and down with a playful smirk, "_you _my friend, have _excellent _taste in clothing!"

Rukia glowed in excellence. It would seem that her choice in clothing was a good one indeed. But still, it was an amazing compliment coming from Orihime.

Orihime took her hand to Rukia's back and began to lead her through the cafe, "I'm sorry for my lateness," she apologized, "traffic is horrible outside! Did you experience it as well?"

"No," Rukia lied, "I got here pretty early!"

"Oh I see! What a splendid thing then, come, take a seat," Orihime opened the doors to her office, and led Rukia inside. It was a cozy, comfortable size room. Brightly lit and decorated. Rukia sat in one of the black chairs in front of Orihime's desk, and held her purse in her lap. Orihime threw her jacket over the back of her big red leather swivel chair and sat in it, turning to meet Rukia face to face, and leaning forward to rest her chin on her fist.

"So, Ms. Rukia Kuchiki," she started off, and already Rukia was sweating, "your background check is clean. GPA looks— great! I contacted your past employers, they said you were a very impeccable worker. Any history with drug abuse?"

"No—" Rukia peeped, "oh _god _no, never."

"So you'll be fine with being subjected to random drug tests?"

"Absolutely!"

"Great," Orihime smiled, "so then tell me something. What's gotten you interested in working for me?"

"Well," Rukia cleared her throat softly, "I—I loved the experience— my first experience being here! The atmosphere is so lively and cheerful, and the customers are happy...and...I think, well I _know_," her voice cracked, but she quickly caught it, "I _know _that I'd love being part of the experience, smiling and putting smiles on people's faces!"

"Excellent," Orihime retorted, "so far you're doing a great job, Rukia! No need to be so tense or nervous, just relax. This is a friend-zone."

"_Yes ma'am_," Rukia exhaled.

"Perfect, perfect, perfect," Orihime sang, "honestly, Rukia. I can really pick up some great vibes off of you. You're happy, you're friendly, you're beautiful, and your smile is bright and cheerful. I think you'll make an excellent addition to our team."

Rukia poked out her chest, and leaned her head forward, "Di—did you just? Did you just hire me?"

"When can you start?"

"I—immediately!" Rukia squealed, "I can start _today_! Or— ok, maybe not today—"

"Tell you what," Orihime laughed and stuck out her hand, "I'll start you off in two days. Today I'll just need you to fill out a little bit of paper work so we can get your sizes and measurements for some of our costumes and uniforms. I'll order them and pick them up. And then on _Friday_, you can come in and start your training. We'll see how that goes, and you can take off from there! I'm sure you'll do an amazing job, you're a smart woman, and you'll have a great mentor."

"Thank you!" Rukia threw her hand out and grabbed Orihime's, giving it an excited shake, "This means a lot to me! What do I sign!? I mean—"

"I'll go fetch some of the paperwork, if you'll just give me a second. I'll be right back, and we can get the wheel rolling! It'll be a pleasure to have you working with us, Ms. Rukia!"

~X~

She was so filled to the brim with joy and glee, Rukia was practically floating up the stairs to her apartment door. Not once did she remember taking a single step on the ground— _nothing _could bring her down!

She sang and she danced and she spun to her door and stabbed her key into its knob, giving it a firm twist and then opening. She danced into the room, and sat her purse on the side table. "Ichigooo," she sang, "Ichi—"

Rukia froze. She stared at her living room, clean, _spotless_. Not a potato chip bag, not a discarded bottle or can or piece of paper out of place or on the ground. And Ichigo was no where in sight. And suddenly, her heart jolted and exploded out of her chest.

_Oh my God!_

Was this Momo's doing!? Momo could've come over and knocked, and Ichigo could've answered! She could've came in and cleaned up with Ichigo's help, and— suddenly the question of _what is he was in heat _came to rest its ugly head on Rukia's brain. With Momo's flirtatiousness, and Ichigo's sudden change— could they have? In her apartment!?

No, she trusted Momo. Momo was her friend. A good friend!

And she trusted Ichigo. Just not Ichigo's sudden change.

Oh shit. Oh God, oh God! Rukia tore at her own hair in panic, where was he!? If Momo _had _come over, could he have gone out with her? And then, the thought came again.

Was Ichigo in heat?

This is bad.

"Ichigo!" Rukia cried once more into the silent air. She flew into a full on rampage and soared through her apartment, to her kitchen. And then, the living room. Looking under the cushions and pillows on her couches— ridiculous places. Underneath her couch, her table. She was so bent on finding him in these preposterous locations, she did't even notice he'd already come to her call, and was standing at the end of her hallway with his eyes set on her rear end high in the air.

He squinted them harshly, and tilted his head, "Yeah?"

Rukia jumped, she threw herself back on her behind and turned to look over her shoulders, sighing, "Oh my God— where were you?"

Ichigo pointed his thumb back behind him, "In the room," he said. "I was cleaning up."

Rukia blinked. She shook her head and paused, standing to her feet slowly, and brushing off her pants, "You...you cleaned up?"

He nodded.

"Even the bedroom?"

"I made the bed," he replied, "and picked up some clothes on the ground."

Rukia's head was spinning out of control at this point. It was a shock that he could even speak so properly, much less clean up around the house. And then it occurred to her— Ichigo was a smart cat. A _very _smart cat. Maybe some of that intelligence transferred over to his human form? Or maybe this had confirmed her worst fears, and he _was _changing fast.

"I needed something to do," he said, "my head was spinning when I woke up, and I felt _weird_. It was like I was forgetting to do something, then I thought I was just tired. So I started cleaning up a little. And then your friend came over—"

Rukia jumped in surprise, so Momo _had _come over. "W...what did you do—" she stuttered, "I mean! What did she want?"

"She wanted to wish you luck on your interview? But I told her you were already gone. And then she asked about a cat. Or something."

"What did you tell her?"

"I told her, 'what cat'?" Ichigo snorted, "And then she laughed and came in, and we talked and then she left."

"What did you two talk about?"

"Just little stuff."

"_Like_?"

"Are you okay?" Ichigo questioned, "I dunno, you seem...upset. Did I do something wrong?"

Rukia sucked in air through her nose and clenched her fists, "_N__ope_." She darted to the table, and to her purse, unbuckling it and emptying it of her keys, her wallet, and a small styrofoam container from the cafe, "I bought you some cake, from the cafe," she ground out— sort of menacingly. And then, she packed her things back into her purse.

"How did it go?"

"Good," she spat and shook her head, "I got the job. It went good." Rukia threw her purse's strap over her shoulder and stuck her nose up in the air. She sat the container on the table and turned her back to him, "I'm going out."

"Going out?"

"To—" she thought, "_celebrate_."

"You just got here," Ichigo protested, "can't we celebrate here? I dunno? Together?"

Rukia spun around on the heels of her feet and huffed, "I'm going to change clothes."

"Rukia."

"I'll call Momo to come over, and you two can _talk _some more."

"You're celebrating by yourself?"

"I have friends!" Rukia screeched, "I have— I have _Renji_!"

Ichigo shook his head slowly, his lids lowering and his nose wrinkled, "_Who_?" Rukia blinked, she was drawn aback by the question completely, "You don't...you don't remember Renji?"

Ichigo strolled nearer to her, Rukia, retreating. She backed herself into the kitchen, setting her purse on the table, all the while Ichigo kept heavy on his pursuit. What was he going to do?

Did she make him angry? She remembers Yoruichi mentioning that he could become violent, or aggressive. And she _thinks _she may have just lit his fuse, with her jealous outbursts. She was trapped now, her back against the cold of her refrigerator, and Ichigo still, coming closer. In that moment she forgot all she was taught in her self-defense classes, for the first time in her life, she was prey. She faced her predator, her stare as hard as his, collecting her mind. She knews the exact move she'd use to subdue him now, if he tried to cause her any harm, and readied herself to attack.

But he didn't.

Ichigo froze, he stopped only about a foot away from her, and his eyes softened. "Why are you trying to run away from me?"

Rukia's shoulders sank. She blinked, her lips parting, as if she were going to answer. But she did not have an answer. She coudn't possibly tell him that she'd been so foolish, even for a _second_, to believe that he'd harm her for the very first time ever. Or that she was _scared_ or cautious. Ichigo stepped nearer, the tips of his toes touching the tips of her shoes. They were so close now, that she was positive, he could feel her heart racing.

"I wanna spend time with you," he said, "you're acting so distant."

Her heart was jumping now. She'd tried to keep her composure and her cool beneath him, trying to keep her heartbeat slow and her breathing calm. If he still retained some of his senses there isn't a doubt in her mind that he knew. He knew exactly how she'd felt, right now, and he knew how hard she was trying to contain it. "I," Rukia hesitated, "Ichigo."

"Yeah?" He responded, deep and smoldering. Rukia inhaled, and then exhaled calmly, "Can you please...step back a little?"

Obediently, Ichigo took two steps back. It was good to see that he was still responsive to her requests at least, "Is something wrong?"

"When was the last time you took a bath?"

"A bath?" He blinked, bewildered, "I don't even remember taking—"

"Ah," Rukia coughed, "that explains it then. You stink." She quickly changed the subject, although she wasn't lying. He'd been wearing the same clothes for what? Three days now? She wondered if he even knew _how_ to take a bath. Maybe there were still some things he'd need to be taught after all. "You need to take a bath, Ichigo."

"No way," Ichigo detested, "for what?"

"Do you even smell yourself?"

He looked at her emptily, and pulled up the neck of his shirt to bury his nose in it.

"You _stink_!" Rukia barked. Even in this form, he was stubborn when it came to one thing, even with Rukia:

Bathing.

He wasn't the cat who absolutely _despised _water. He just despised baths. Having water run over him is different then submerging himself in it. He hated it, and she assumed that showers would be more of his forte if that were the case. "I'll take a bath," he said, "if you come with me."

Rukia's face shot bright red— was he? Was he _hitting _on her!? Or maybe it was just because he was used to bathing _with _her. As a cat, Ichigo would always be bathed by Rukia, she'd be in the tub on her knees, scrubbing him. It kept him comfortable and a lot less frantic when it came to being in so much water. But now, he was a man, asking her to _bathe with him_? He couldn't mean...no. He coudn't possibly be suggesting anything sexual, or flirtatious.

Rukia sighed, and pinched her hands to her hips. She rolled her eyes and closed them, tilting her head back, and finally, she replied, "_Fine_."


	16. Chapter 14: This Feeling I Get

**GATA!**

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN **:: **THIS FEELING I GET WHEN I'M AROUND YOU****  
**

* * *

"You know," Ichigo grumbled, distraught, "when I asked you to bathe with me...this isn't what I had in mind."

Rukia stood outside the shower doors, her eyes blindfolded with a blindfold she'd sometimes wore to sleep. She was fully dressed still, and had her arms extended with a bottle of body wash in her hand, "So you _were _hitting on me!"

"I _was _thinking," Ichigo spoke loudly over the pouring water falling from the shower head and onto him as he stood still beneath it, "that we were going to _bathe _together. Not _this_." He pushed aside the sliding shower door, and took the soap from out of Rukia's hand, and closed the door again. "This is actually kinda awkward..."

"This is better," Rukia replied sternly, "besides! This way you can learn to shower by yourself! Don't forget to wash behind your ears!"

"Yeah, yeah."

"And don't use too much of that soap," Rukia added, "or you'll smell too strong! And that stuff is expensive..."

Ichigo popped open the cap on the bottle and sniffed the top. It was that cherry blossom scented soap that he oh so adored, and he excitedly began to pour it over the bath sponge in his hand. Maybe, a little too much. More than Rukia would've liked, that's or sure. "Ichigo," she said apprehensively, "are you scrubbing yet?"

Ichigo capped the bottle and set it aside, looking down at his chest, and slapping the sponge on his pectorals, "Yeah."

"Okay," Rukia began, "scrub in big circles. Make sure you get under your arms and around your neck, and scrub everything all the way down to your feet!"

"How am I gonna get my back?"

Rukia blushed like mad and retorted venomously, "_Reach_ for it!"

He grumbled darkly under his breath, and commenced to scrubbing himself as instructed. In circular motions on his chest, and then his hard abdomen. He ran the sponge up his sides and obliques, lifting his arms and getting underneath them with harder scrubbing motions. He ran the sponge around the girth of his neck, and up behind his ears, pushing his soaking wet hair back and out of his face.

A part of Rukia dared to peek from under her blindfold, just a small look couldn't hurt her right? However, her conscience and better half urged her greatly not to, and she would not do otherwise. Besides. She wouldn't know how to react seeing a man in her shower. Not that she could even if she wanted to. The heat of the water would fog up the glass of the doors and prevent her from seeing, wouldn't it? So why the blindfold?

Perhaps, the blindfold was a bit of an excessive step. And also, it was tight, and cutting off the circulation to her brain. She pulled it off and sighed, running her fingers through her hair to remove the crease made by the blindfold's strap, "Are you almost done Ichigo?"

"What?" Ichigo asked before registering what she'd spoken. He was too occupied with his body to give her his full and undivided attention, "Uh— yeah. Yeah. I'll be out in a second."

"Wash all the soap off yourself first," Rukia shouted over the running water, "I'm going to change. The towel is hanging from the rack. Make sure you dry yourself off before you step out onto the carpet." With that, she rushed out of the bathroom, closing the door completely behind her, and pressing her back against it.

This was too much. She was now, actually, tired. She lingered across the hall and into her bedroom, hitting the lights behind her and kicking her shoes off in the middle of the floor—

She paused to think for a moment. Ichigo spent time cleaning her room, so the least she could do was keep it clean. She bent over to take her shoes up from the ground, and brought them to the closet where she set them neatly with her others, and closed it. She removed her blazer, and threw it on her bed. She removed her shirt and her pants, and stretched freely now that she was unclothed. Quickly, she opened her drawers and poked around for something to wear, just around the house since she wouldn't go out again today. A pair of dark blue shorts and a gray shirt were her only casual-indoor options, which reminded her, she needed to do laundry.

She pulled the shirt on, and then the shorts, returning to her bed to her disarray of clothes, separating what's clean from what's dirty on her bed whilst humming a soft tune to herself. And then she turned around with clothes in hand, screaming, and dropping everything in her arms to the ground.

It was Ichigo, standing in her room dripping wet with nothing around his waist but a small white towel. He was looking in her mirror, playing with his hair— "_Ichigo_! What in the _world_!?"

"Huh?" He replied cluelessly.

"Y—you're—" She forced the words out of her mouth all at once in a colliding mess, "You're naked! And you didn't even turn the shower off!" Rukia covered her eyes with her hands and rushed into the bathroom to turn the water off. She sighed heavily, and returned to her bedroom with her head down and her eyes closed, "_Why _are you naked?"

"You didn't give me any clothes," Ichigo said, "that's why I'm in here. To _get_ clothes."

"Just— just— don't move," Rukia rushed to Ichigo's side with her eyes averted to his being. He stepped aside, giving her amble moving space and watched as she frantically pulled out drawers and thrashed around inside of them or clothes, one drawer at a time. He watched her, her frantically moving little body as she shifted from side to side, up and down, bending over to reach the lowest drawers. Seeing her bent over the way she was in those little shorts, moving and shaking so wildly had lit a fire inside him, one that he would contain. Covering his face with his hand and bowing his head. He waited until the heat subsided until he looked again, to find her standing up with a bundle of clothes in her arms.

"Here," she huffed, she shoved the clothes into his arms and turned away, "I'm gonna get the laundry going. You just change in here! I'll be in the living room."

"Okay," he took the clothes without protest. He was thankful that he was naked, because Rukia wouldn't look at him this way, and notice how flustered— and excited he was. He watched her move carefully, she took all the clothe off the bed and scrambled to leave the room. Closing the bedroom door behind her, and leaving Ichigo to himself inside.

~X~

He was taking forever, Ichigo. Rukia was beginning to become impatient in his arriving to the living room, and stood to her feet. She'd already cooked and had dinner waiting on the stove in the kitchen, all she'd needed now was for him to actually come out and eat it. Just as she was about to barge in on him, and demand to know what was taking him so long, she heard her bedroom door open. And saw Ichigo, slowly, making his way down the hall.

"There you are," Rukia griped, "what was taking you so long?"

"What?" Ichigo snapped his head up, scratching the back of his neck anxiously, "Nothing. I was just. Getting dressed."

She raised a brow at him. Something's got him behaving strangely, and a part of her wants to investigate what it is. Instead of further questioning, she sighed, and rolled her eyes, "I made dinner. It's in the kitchen.—"

"Sure," he said shortly.

"Are you feeling alright Ichigo?"

"Huh? Yeah, I," he hesitated, "I guess I'm a little tired."

He wallowed into the kitchen, his socks rubbing against the soft carpet. As he went, Rukia came close behind him and followed. Now _she_ was the one in pursuit. She stood on hold while she watched him take a bowl from the cupboard above the stove and place it on the counter. Never once had he looked up to acknowledge her presence, or say a word to her face. He just filled his bowl with broth and noodles, and pieces of beef, and took it to the table. Leaving Rukia standing over the counter, with her eyes plastered on his grim form.

She joined him at the table immediately once he sat down, and pulled her chair up beside him. And still, he ignored her. She leaned in and brought herself closer to him, and she was unacknowledged. She even stared, unmoved, for minutes while she watched him pick around in his food and sip broth from his spoon. Silently. Until finally— he sighed, and dropped his spoon in the bowl, "_What_?"

"I should be the one asking _you _that," Rukia snootily replied, "are you avoiding me?"

Ichigo furrowed his brows and looked away, and then he looked down at his bowl and picked up his spoon again, "No."

"I can tell you're lying—"

"You were avoiding _me _earlier," he snapped, "I'm. I'm not avoiding you. It's just that...it's nothing. It's like I said. I'm tired."

Rukia rested her cheek in the palm of her hand, lying her sympathetic, pitiful eyes on her companion as he spooned more broth into his mouth, and pushed around the noodles and meet inside his bowl. "You don't have to make yourself eat if you aren't hungry," she said.

"It's fine," he replied, "you cooked it. So I'll eat it."

"How about we try something else." Rukia scooped the bowl out from under his head and snatched the spoon from his hand. She set it inside the bowl, and placed it beside the stove, opening her refrigerator to dig inside. And coming out with a small styrofoam container. She took a fork from the drawer beside the fridge, and gestured for him to follow her into the living room. Which he did, curious to what she'd meant by "trying something else".

Inside the living room Rukia plopped down on the couch, and turned so that her legs would come inside and on the cushions, crossing them underneath her body. Waiting for Ichigo to join her. He did, sitting the same way she was, his legs crossed and his body facing towards her. Rukia opened the container, and stuck her fork in the decorative slice of strawberry cake, holding it out in front of him. And Ichigo stared, and he blinked, "You're kidding."

"Does it look like I'm kidding," Rukia scoffed, "c'mon. Try it."

Ichigo stared at the cake on the fork and sighed in defeat. He leaned forward and took it into his mouth, and once detached from it, his eyes sparkled with life. This cake was good— no, this cake was great! Rukia laughed at his jovial reaction and took another forkful, holding it out to him again, and he took it. This was kinda cute, now that she'd thought about it. The way he ate off the fork when she brought it up and to his face. How he'd gotten crumbs on his shirt, and on his lips and the corner of his lips.

"Hold on," Rukia placed the container aside on top of the coffee table. She came to her knees and brushed her hands against his shirt to pat the crumbs off, and then, brought them to his face. She wiped away the icing and crumb on the corner of his lips with her thumb and gently gliding her thumb's pad across his lips, to rid it of excess as well. Ichigo took her gently by the wrist, and pried her hand away from his face.

She hadn't realized that he began to close in on her, and yet surely enough, Ichigo crept closer and closer. He leaned forward, until their faces stood only inches apart now. Her eyes were set on his, and his on hers. He halted, and waited for a reaction. A word of detest, a move of rejection or fret, but she did nothing. And so cautiously, he moved in, and sealed her lips with a kiss.

Rukia sat still and did nothing, even now when they were connected. It wasn't because he'd held onto her wrist that she didn't retaliate, but because she simply did not want to. She allowed her eyes to gently flutter closed, and her body to relax, as he took her down to the cushions of the couch. Ichigo became hesitant, and frantic. He broke away and inhaled heavily, replacing their gentle and tender lip lock with one of more intensity. Rukia breathed through her nose, her hands moving to hold the sides of his face, and then his neck, and Ichigo dug in deeper with his lips. She parted her soft warm lips to allow him access to her mouth with his hot tongue. He was rough, dominating her mouth whilst squeezing her hips hard with his hands. So rough in fact, that Rukia released a shrill squeal, and quickly— he pulled away.

He hovered there for several moments, supporting himself on his elbows to keep from crushing her small body below him. Her legs are tightly wound around his hips, and her eyes are a deep, dark blue. Ichigo dove back down, he's more aggressive with his kiss, but less so with his hands. Instead he gently traces her sides with his hot heavy palms and digs down beneath her shirt to make contact with her skin. Rukia gasped, and she broke their kiss, and bit her tongue nervously. "_Shit_," Ichigo breathed out, his warm breath rolling off her skin. He nuzzled his head beneath her chin and huffed against her pulse, his hands sliding out from under her shirt, and gripping her sides gently outside of it.

"Sorry," he sputtered, and tore away from her feverishly. Receding back to his side of the couch and breaking free from her grappled legs. He pushed up against the backboard to get to his feet, but Rukia grabbed him by the sleeve of his shirt to keep him from leaving.

"Tell me what's wrong," she demanded of him, but with a soft gentle tone. "I can't," he replied.

"You can tell me," she assured him, and brought her other hand to cup the side of his face, "_tell me_."

"Rukia, I _can't_."

"Why not?"

"Because I—" Ichigo stopped hesitantly, "I don't know."

"What don't you know?"

"I don't know how to _say it_," he retorted, frustrated, "I just— I don't know how! It's this weird feeling I get every time you come around, I'm...I'm _uncomfortable_."

"Uncomfortable around me?" Rukia sat up from the couch and collected herself, pulling her shirt back down to cover her waist, "Is it me who makes you uncomfortable?"

"Yes—" Ichigo snapped at himself, and quickly changed his answer, "_no_—! It's—!"

"Then what? What is it?"

"It's _me_!" He shouted, flustered. It was the first time he'd ever raised his voice, he sounded so angry and yet, so concerned at the very same time. Rukia took her hand away and brought it back to her body, placing it in her lap. Immediately, Ichigo felt regret. He raked his fingers back through his hair and exhaled heavily in exasperation, "It isn't you— it's just. Me when I'm _around _you. I feel as if I'm on the verge of losing control of myself, and hurting you."

"You...you want to hurt me?" Rukia stammered in appall. Ichigo shook his head wildly, "No! Of course not! That's why I'm trying to _avoid _it. It's not that I want to hurt you...but I want...a part of me wants to...you. You make my stomach feel funny?"

She bobbed her head backwards and squinted her eyes thinly at Ichigo.

"Not in a _sick _way," Ichigo tried to rephrase what he had said, his face lighting up in embarrassment, "it's more like...you make my..._you know_." Ichigo winced. Rukia shook her head slowly in denial, and then, she followed his eyes down until she reached his lap— and gasped quietly. "_Oh_," she yelped, in realization. She'd feasted her eyes on the _tent pitching _between Ichigo's legs, and looked away, embarrassed. Now the both of them were red and silent. How else should she feel?

_Flattered_? Maybe?

"_Yeah_," Ichigo grumbled, rubbing the back of his flushed neck, "Um. You get it. I think. I _hope_."

"Yeah," Rukia cleared her throat in reply, "I get it."

"I'm sorry—"

"No no, it's not your fault," she tried to find a way of words that would comfort him, however, she hadn't entirely known what to say at this point. "It's. Natural.—"

"It's _frustrating_," Ichigo ground out into the palms of his hands in which he buried his face. Rukia ground her teeth awkwardly and nodded, "Yeah, well...I wouldn't really...know. But I can...probably _imagine_." Ichigo slid his hands down his face and groaned, sitting himself firmly on the couch and bending forward to put his elbows on his knees. He held his head down and breathed deeply, counting to ten each time. Rukia, simply watched, and he waited for him to resurface and breathe some _fresh _air.

But that probably wouldn't happen while she's so close to him.

"I'll go in the room," Rukia said, "when you feel better you can come in with me and sleep.—"

"_That's not_," Ichigo mumbled, "a good idea...I'll sleep on the couch..."

"Oh...well. Alright." She finally left him to relish in his sorrow and walked into the hallway, hugging the corner of the wall, just to stare at him one last time. "Goodnight. I guess." She said, although it was only five o'clock in the afternoon, she was sure they wouldn't be seeing each other again for the rest of the day— as long as Ichigo stayed flustered. He laid across the couch and groaned, half his body hanging off the edge. While his other half barely held on to keep him from colliding with the ground. Without another word, Rukia disappeared out of sight, and into the hallway where she'd come to her room and opened the door.

She dragged her feet inside, barely closing the door behind her, and throwing herself on the edge of her bed. Sliding off her mattress and her blankets, and coming to her knees beside it. She huffed irritably, down into the fabric of her blankets, picking her head up only to rest her chin on the edge. Her face still hot and pink, and her mind, racing.

_I kissed __Ichigo_.

She buried her face in her mattress and screamed, inwardly. For she did not want to startle him, and have him intrude on her in her pathetic state. It's all over now. Living with him, would be an adventure from this point forwards that' for sure. And to think that tomorrow, she has absolutely nothing to do, but wait for the next day to go into her work training.

It's been a long day today, but tomorrow is sure to be a trip.


	17. Chapter 15: Cloud Nine

**GATA!**

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN **:: **CLOUD NINE**

A/N: Ahoy shippers! **LEMON AHEAD** — explicit sexual content. Literally, that's all this chapter is. From start to finish. I am NOT kidding you. You'll understand why at the end, I can already see some of the looks on some of your faces. I couldn't help myself really...I'm ashamed. But if you'd like to skip ahead to the next chapter (when i put one up) then be my guest! Happy reading!

I'd also like to say THANK YOU to all of you who are my readers! Thanks for the positive feedback— and some _hilarious _reviews! Seriously. You guys are what keep me going, and I'm gonna keep thriving!

P.S. I've even gotten some offers for fanart!? Kyaaa!? You guys are teases, of COURSE I WANT FANART. I'm gonna die, I'm so happy about that you don't even— WOW.

If you want to (and please please _please _do) you can submit fanart/ask me questions on my tumblr! It's on my profile, but I'll also put it here: Kurofuckme . tumblr . com

Yeah.

_Do it_.

Anyway on that note, I'm going to go before all this thankfulness brings a tear to my eye.

* * *

Rukia was exhausted, mentally. Yet she was restless, tossing and turning in the grips of her bed. She was treading back into her old ways of insomnia— right after she gets a job too!? This could be deadly for her.

She squeezed her eyes closed tightly— rolling over in her bed again, _refusing _to look at the clock on her side. It would terrify her to know how late it was! She would get to sleep at all costs, and nothing would stop her. Nothing, except, herself.

Perhaps it was too warm? She kicked her blankets off her body and sighed in relief. The slight cool of the air soothed her, it eased her mind and body and yet, she could not sleep. She simply was not tired. She ripped the pillow out from under her head and smothered herself with it, perhaps if she'd suffocated herself just for a little while...or maybe that was too extreme. Rukia tossed the pillow aside on her bed and whined, her eyes opening, they met with her plain ceiling, and she sighed.

It was lonely. It was so lonely in her bedroom. She knew exactly why she couldn't get to sleep, and it's because— she's used to having Ichigo sleep with her. She's used to his warmth, both as a feline and a human, wrapping around her. It made her feel safe and secure, like all her insecurities would fly out the window, and she would wave to them goodbye. But he wasn't here, instead, he was on the living room couch.

Wallowing.

Not any worse than she was though. She knew that for a fact. She was miserable.

She slid her eyes closed, one more time. Just one more minute, she'd fall asleep, just one. This wasn't true, and she knew very well that it would take a miracle to get her to go to sleep tonight. And her mind begins to wonder.

She recollects on today's activities, from beginning to end. Beginning with her waking up, and Ichigo perplexing her with his strange behavior, and ending with even more embarrassment. But she stopped in the middle, when she'd arrived home and brought up Renji's name. She'd remembered his expression, and how he relentlessly pursued her into her kitchen, and trapped her against her fridge. Part of her was fearful, and yet she remembers especially, the part of her that _yearned _for him to do something completely out of the ordinary.

She remembered thinking...what if he hadn't obeyed her when she asked him to step back. What if he'd done the opposite?

What if he'd came closer, and held her hostage, and proceeded to do what he wanted to her. What if he picked her up and pressed her back hard against the door, and kissed her on the neck and nipped at her pulse. What if he'd made her gasp and breathe his name until she was completely breathless. She'd grab him by the hair and wrap her legs around his waist, and he'd put his hands beneath her shirt, and not stop even if she told him to.

These thoughts were what got her riled up, and immediately, she writhed and turned in her bed. Her body was hot now, and glad that she removed her covers. Her legs, entangled with one another, their skin brushing together and creating friction and heat that she could only wish was from—

"_Rukia_."

She heard Ichigo call her by name, and jerked up from the bed to sit and look out her bedroom door. He'd entered, slowly, with his head low and his face red. His embarrassment had very well brought on her own, and she struggled to keep the color from rising to her cheeks. There was just something about him blushing so profusely that made him look— _cute_, to say the very least. "Y...yeah?"

"Sorry I woke you up," Ichigo mumbled, "I...I couldn't sleep."

"Y—yeah," Rukia stuttered nervously and retorted, "me neither."

He entered the proximity of her room, and finally looked up at her. Her eyes are luminescent in the moonlight, glowing even in the dark, their radiant blue rays. It was breath taking, the sight of her, all bothered and porcelain skin slick with tiny beads of perspiration. She bit down on her lip and looked away from him, sliding over in her bed, "You can come sleep with me. If you wanna."

She offered him a position he absolutely could not and _would not _refuse. To be by her at this moment would be bliss, and he took the opportunity by the horns and went with it. He climbed into her bed and beside her, and now, she looked at him. Midway into lying down, he was caught in the trap of her stare, and held completely still. He reached out to her, and took his hand to her warm, soft cheek, caressing her skin.

It was over now.

All of their restraint, their inhibitions, gone, along with Rukia's insecurities. Ichigo leaned in, and this time, she came into their kiss, and they locked lips passionately. He brought his other hand to her face, and move the both of them to stroke her silky hair, while her's matted to his chest. Rukia's hands slid from his pectorals to his shoulders, and she brought them to his neck. Her touch was ice cold and made him shiver to the core in excitement, and Ichigo climbed onto her, straddling over her petite body. He broke their kiss, and panted wildly, kneeling over her, and he'd begun to peel off his shirt that made him boiling hot.

"_Ichigo_," Rukia whispered. She was electrified, by the sight of him, the moon's rays melting all over his peachy skin. She flattened her hands back down on his shoulders and slid them to his chest, and he took both her arms by the wrist, staring deep into her cerulean orbs of light.

"I can't wait anymore," Ichigo huffed wolfishly, "I want you. _Now_."

"W—wait," Rukia hesitated. She cried out, and had gone unheard, her sound muffled out by the force of his lips pressing against her own. She was in no place to protest, for she wanted him just as bad as he wanted her, only she had to be asleep right now. And there was no way she could do that with him ravishing her body and senses. But she'd let it slide, just for tonight.

Rukia moaned out airlessly, Ichigo brought his lips to her neck, and sucked the very breath out of her being. She allowed her lids to flutter closed and hide the world from her sight, slipping into utopia, with Ichigo's hands snaking up her shirt, and cupping her breasts. She got rid of the damned cloth and threw it over her head, off the other side of her bed, exposing her milky skin to his hungry eyes. And he took in the sight of her now, lying beneath him in her bra and shorts. He dove down with his tongue, in the valley betwixt her pert breasts he licked the skin, and traced around her left breast with his tongue, while his hand gently cupped her right.

Rukia cocked her head to the side, breathing out and digging her nails into the blankets beneath them. He slipped the cups of her bra up over her breasts and brought himself access to the rosy peaks that sat atop her fleshy mounds. Taking one of her perky nipples into his mouth, he assaulted her with his tongue while his fingers worked feverishly to roll and pinch the other. Rukia shuddered, her heavy moans rolling off the tongue high into the air so loudly, she was sure those above her could hear it.

"_Ichigo_," she whined, desperately. She folded her arm over her eyes, and her other hand gripped tightly on the locks of orange atop his head. Ichigo groaned out in slight pain, Rukia's nails digging into his scalp, and he lifted from her breasts, and took his hands off her body. She removed her arm from over her eyes to look up, and peer at him but—

He was gone.

Was it a dream? It couldn't have been. It all felt so real...

She felt her body slide down the bed, her waist brought to the edge, and Ichigo, standing in between her quaking legs. He held a tight grip around her thighs, and removed it to begin to carefully disrobe her of the shorts that covered her intimates. He held her legs, spread wide, and before she could even _think _to object to his actions, he dipped down and pressed his lips to her inner thigh.

"_Hah—_" Rukia gasped, she reached down to her lower extremities and frantically covered the spot of her arousal with both her hands, "S—stop! You can't put your mouth there..."

Ichigo didn't listen. For the first time, he disobeyed her, and continued on his journey down to her heated core. But not before he'd torture her with his tongue. He'd rolled it so skillfully against the skin of her thigh, kissing and sucking on the spots his tongue would touch. Rukia's eyes rolled back in ecstasy, and unconsciously, her hands slipped and came up to her head, gripping the sheets on either side of her head. Her hips were bucking, she was _begging _for it now. Not with her mouth of verbal words, but with body language. And he, was reading her like a book.

Hitting her every spot. Toying with her every weakness. Until, he slipped his tongue along the center of her arousal, outside her wet panties. Rukia shuddered violently, her entire body struck with a wave of shock and electricity. She breathed out his name and sucked in as much air as she could get, as he continued his onslaught on her melting hot core. He teased her, rubbing his fingers against her slit on the outside of her panties. Rubbing and twirling the erect pearl at the top of her entrance, never once making full skin on skin contact with her arousal.

She'd nearly demanded for him to stop, but she was afraid her words would not all come out at the same time. What she'd really wanted to say, is:

_Stop teasing me, Ichigo_. And beg out of her mind to be touched raw.

Ichigo finally pulled her panties to the side, and exposed the throbbing, dripping, pink petals of her sex. He assaulted her viciously with his tongue again, slipping it to it's very base inside of her sex. Rukia jerked and cried out in bliss, her hands falling to meet with the top of his head, and pull on his hair. Ichigo groaned lightly, the vibrations of his bass hitting her inner walls, and she moaned out even more. Even louder.

Ichigo pulled her down by her hips, his arms wrapped tightly around her legs. He wouldn't allow her to escape, not even if she wanted to. There was no way in hell, not until he was done with her. He lapped up every single drop of her fluid and pulled his tongue out from betwixt her wet folds to flick her throbbing clitoris with it. And then, he'd clamped his lips around it, and sucked hard, nibbling gently with his teeth, while his fingers pumped in and out of her slick pussy at a slow and torturous pace.

She couldn't take it anymore. All this constant teasing, was driving her insane with want. "_Please_," she whimpered softly, "_Ichigo...please..._"

He had needed no more than those few words to know what she wanted. He hadn't hesitated either, in giving it to her. He came to his feet, standing erect between her legs and working to remove his pants. He dropped them and his boxers, and pulled Rukia closer down to his waist by her hips. He pried her wide open with the head of his throbbing member, and pressed his hands to her inner thighs to spread her legs. Bucking forward Ichigo pressed into her assertively, but his length slipped against the lubrication of her sheath.

He released a feral groan and leaned in with himself, his member rubbing against the skin of her abdomen, burning with excitement. Rukia could feel it in all it's girth and she chewed on her finger in anticipation, as he re-positioned himself, and pressed against her entrance one last time. Slowly, he'd begin to sink into her bliss, and surround himself with warmth and walls of velvet. Rukia inhaled deeply, and groaned out, tugging and pulling at the sheets below. She rasped out in pain, agonized by the stretching of her diminutive ring, and Ichigo halted immediately upon sensing her pain.

"_I'm sorry_," he whimpered, he fell forward and he wrapped his arms around Rukia, burying his nose in her shoulder and groaning in her skin. Rukia grappled her arms and legs around his tense muscular body and wound her fingers in his hair. Her eyes stinging with painful tears. "I'm okay," she breathed, "I'm fine. I promise."

"Are you positive?" Ichigo asked, he too out of breath. She nodded and gave him the go to continue his venture, and slowly, he sank deeper and deeper into her hot sheath. "_Oooh_!" She moaned, her legs further spreading to receive him. Ichigo stilled inside of her, allowing her the time to open up to him and become shaped to his thickness. He hadn't yet reached the point of his base, with only a little more than an inch remaining outside of her, but he didn't want to push her limit. Right now he would savor her, just as she would savor, and adapt to him.

"Please," Rukia cried, "please move_ slowly_." Ichigo obeyed her and proceeded to remove himself from her velvet canal which gripped tightly around him. Once half way out, he pushed back in easy and sank all the way down to his waist. Finally, he filled her to the very brim and she rolled her eyes in felicity. Rukia arched her back and bucked her hips. She let her head fall to the side, and stared at his hand placed firmly on the bed by her shoulders for support. He took his right hand and grabbed hers which had been tearing the sheets. He grabbed it and interlaced their fingers so that they made one fist, pressing the back of her hand firm against the bed.

Slowly, is the pace that he went. He pushed in and pulled out, and pushed in deeper a second time. He was feeling it, the pleasure, the ecstasy. The sensational feel of her paradise engulfing him whole and refusing to spit him out. Rukia began to rock with his rhythm, steadily increasing until he was at a consistent speed of just quick enough to shake the bed beneath them. And quick enough to take her breath away, making her pant softly, and slowly.

Ichigo pushed her further up the bed with his waist and came atop it, finally. His knees were turning to gelatin, no longer able to hold him up on his feet. And so he knelt on her bed and pulled her waist up to meet his. Rukia, arching her back, and pulling her lips in between her teeth. "Does it hurt?" Ichigo asked her between soft breaths. He looked down at her body tightly tensed, and rubbed her abdomen to get her to relax just slightly.

"_You're still bad at lying y'know,_" Rukia whispered, and laughed softly, "you're not making this painful for me. You're making me feel good. It feels _so good_."

Ichigo quickened his pace, he wasn't losing control of his hips, he was only swelling with excitement and delving into her with a new fever. Rukia cried out, he was blissfully attacking her most intimate place, and yet he was being so careful and considerate on her part not to hurt her. He'd tried so hard and so much _not _to hurt her. He was still the same careful and trustworthy Ichigo, only now, he was different. And she felt more for him like a lover, rather than just a best friend.

_More_, she craved more, her hips thrusting up to receive his own powerful thrusts. She was greedily taking him, accepting him into her body with glee. He was pounding into her so strongly it made her very being shake and jump. Her breasts move at the quick pace of his thrusts, and her moans melt into the room, dancing with his bestial pants and groaning.

"Oh _fuck_—" Ichigo growled. He stilled himself and pushed to the very limit of her core, bringing his hands to take her own and push them down into the bed. He had stiffened to new levels inside of her, he's throbbing and shaking. His stomach tight, he's gone completely into a world of new feeling. Rukia wrapped her legs so tightly around his hips there was no hope of him ever escaping. She gripped his hands as tight as he gripped hers, and cocked her head back against the pillow, to cry out with shrill whines and deep breaths.

He was about to explode, he could feel it in his core. He squeezed his eyes shut, and bowed his heat. The sweat trickling down his face dabbled lightly on the planes of her stomach. He moaned out to the very top of his lungs, and then—

Rukia woke up.

She flew up from her bed, her body cold, and shaking. Covered in sweat. She had her blankets pulled up to her chest, looking down in her bed, to her left. And to her right.

No one. Not even Ichigo.

She peered under her blankets, she's still completely clothed. Not a single sign that Ichigo had been in her bed in sight.

"_Holy shit_," she breathed out shakily, "_it was just a dream_..."

It was just a dream, that caused her all this inner trouble. Her insides were so gnarled and twisted, and her legs so shaky. There was _no way _she'd _ever_, forget this.

Ever.

And now, there was no way, she'd ever get back to sleep tonight.

* * *

P.S.

Please don't kill me.


	18. Author's note: Apologizing&Tumblr

**GATA!**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE **:: **APOLOGIES**

* * *

Hi guys!

I'd just like to formally apologize for my lack of updates the past couple of days. As of right now I've sort of hit a rock in my life with school and home life, personal feelings, etc. Not gonna get into all of that at the moment, I'll spare you all the trouble!

I haven't abandoned the story, in fact, i plan on pushing out two (maximum three) chapters all at the same time as I'm writing and proofreading them in the document stage. I have the plot already planned, now it's all about execution! And I hate to make stories short!

Again, I just wanted to apologize. Sincerely. I haven't been feeling well lately, at all. But I'll be back on track sure enough sooner or later when my head is clear. More sooner than later, I promise!

Expect an update this weekend! And thank you all who are reading/supporting me!

— Maggot-senpai

P.S. If you haven't already, you can follow me on tumblr! It's new. Like. Only a hundred posts and fourteen followers new! Haha. A hundred posts of Ichigo/Bleach, and other fandom stuff. Mostly Bleach, but. It's a pretty healthy mix of SNK, KNK, KLK, etc. Love these things.

Follow me: Kurofuckme . tumblr . com

Actual link can be copied and pasted from my profile! Since FF doesn't like links in chapters! Haha


	19. Chapter 16: Remember me

**GATA!**

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN **:: **REMEMBER ME**

* * *

The next morning is painful. She's tired, exhausted, Rukia can barely move. Barely see, through the fog of sleep that's hazed her eyes _still _after she's woken up and begun to move. She releases a howling yawn and stretches till her body buckles and tenses. And then, she shuffles her feet across the carpeted floor, across the hall and to the bathroom.

There, she flicks on the lights and examines herself in the mirror. She touches her face gently with her fingers, and runs the textured finger pads over her clammy skin. If only she could wake up in the morning and be as flawless as women are portrayed in movies, y'know, everyone knows that shtick. The scene where the pretty girl gets up from bed, hair sleek and smooth, face clear, with the cute yawns and pips.

Only this is real life. And there is nothing _cute _about heavy baggy circles under your eyes and hair nested wildly atop your head— no. It's just. Natural.

Rukia twisted the knobs on her sink, flowing water rushing from the faucet and pouring into the porcelain bowl. She splashed a handful against her face and exhaled heavily, cutting off the sink's flow of water once more. Reaching for her toothbrush, and a tube of toothpaste, she delivers the appropriate amount of the minty past to the bristles of her blue toothbrush and notices—

The jet black toothbrush that she'd gone out and bought Ichigo, has been used and laid out sloppily on the back of the sink.

So he's awake then. She grunted, and jabbed the brush betwixt her lips to assault the enamel of her teeth with the bristles. Whilst doing so, she replaced Ichigo's toothbrush back where it belonged, neatly in the cup she kept on the edge of the sink for _obvious reasons_. He was becoming a roommate, rather than someone she'd have to baby. Well. Not _entirely _baby.

But maybe, that was a good thing?

Rukia paused momentarily, allowing the thought process to set in and take its place

ia can barely move. Barely see, through the fog of sleep that's hazed her eyes _still _after she's woken up and begun to move. She releases a howling yawn and stretches till her body buckles and tenses. And then, she shuffles her feet across the carpeted floor, across the hall and to the bathroom.

There, she flicks on the lights and examines herself in the mirror. She touches her face gently with her fingers, and runs the textured finger pads over her clammy skin. If only she could wake up in the morning and be as flawless as women are portrayed in movies, y'know, everyone knows that shtick. The scene where the pretty girl gets up from bed, hair sleek and smooth, face clear, with the cute yawns and pips.

Only this is real life. And there is nothing _cute _about heavy baggy circles under your eyes and hair nested wildly atop your head— no. It's just. Natural.

Rukia twisted the knobs on her sink, flowing water rushing from the faucet and pouring into the porcelain bowl. She splashed a handful against her face and exhaled heavily, cutting off the sink's flow of water once more. Reaching for her toothbrush, and a tube of toothpaste, she delivers the appropriate amount of the minty past to the bristles of her blue toothbrush and notices—

The jet black toothbrush that she'd gone out and bought Ichigo, has been used and laid out sloppily on the back of the sink.

So he's awake then. She grunted, and jabbed the brush betwixt her lips to assault the enamel of her teeth with the bristles. Whilst doing so, she replaced Ichigo's toothbrush back where it belonged, neatly in the cup she kept on the edge of the sink for _obvious reasons_. He was becoming a roommate, rather than someone she'd have to baby. Well. Not _entirely _baby.

But maybe, that was a good thing?

Rukia paused momentarily, allowing the thought process to set in and take its place. What if, Urahara _hadn't _made it back in time?

Should she be preparing for the worst?

Then again, what could possibly be so terrible about it? She'd finally have a roommate, not to mention, some help around her apartment. It couldn't be so bad if they worked at it. Ichigo could find himself a job, maybe in construction, like Renji. Or...

She spat the foamy toothpaste from her mouth and turned on the sink. Or, the result could be catastrophic, Ichigo could forget who she is, and go completely ballistic having no recollection of who he is or where he came from. Yeah. No.

Urahara would have to hurry his ass up.

Rukia dropped her toothbrush beside Ichigo's, inside the cup on her sink, and spat one more time into the bowl before turning off the water. She patted her hair down on her head, and fixed her shirt, covering her exposed waist and shoulder. And then, heading out the bathroom door, she ventured into her living room.

Where Ichigo is _supposed _to be.

Key word: supposed.

She ceased, dead in her tracks, giving the space a one-over look before allowing herself to wonder off in intensive thought. His place on the couch was a mess, the blankets thrown off and rustled on the ground. He couldn't have been in the kitchen, she would've seen him from where she stood— unless, he was on his knees...

Which, in that case, she darted to the opening of the kitchen from the living room, and peered over the marble counter— to the kitchen floor.

Nope.

"Ichigo?" She called out for him, thrice. Her apartment was in no way, a large place. If he was here, he definitely would've been in her sights by now. And he wasn't in her bedroom, or the bathroom. Or. Was he?

Rukia tore through her apartment, with ferocity unmatched by even the most hellish of entities. She looked ridiculous, ripping through places that no human being would be able to contort themselves to hide in. She's looking in places, where Ichigo _used _to hide, when he were a cat. The closet, under her bed which sat low to the ground...although, her bed was not assembled at the time, so she wouldn't know if he would hide beneath it or not. She looked through drawers, cabinets, under couch cushions— no where.

He was gone. And panic, rears its ugly head.

Where could he have gone? Had he known the area well enough to just— leave?

Or, was it too late? Had his mind already cracked, confusing him to his surroundings? Did he leave because he didn't know where he was? Rukia tore at her head, enraged, confused, and concerned. The slurry of emotion has twisted her stomach into pirouetting knots. She was about to hurl, undoubtedly. She turned her back to the couch, and fell down on it, bringing her elbows to her knees and pulling her head down between them.

He's gone.

He isn't here. He's _somewhere_, but, he isn't _here_. But if he isn't here...then where?

She was so wrapped in her own thought, she had not heard the opening of the sliding glass doors leading out to her apartment's balcony, or the pushing aside of the curtains that hid it. She hadn't noticed, Ichigo standing in the door's threshold, staring at her, before making his entrance, sliding the door closed behind him.

He was confused, to say the least. He was sure he'd heard his name...but now...she was silent. She wasn't talking, or calling out for him as he'd thought she was. Hell, she hadn't even noticed he was there. He knitted his brows and pulled the creamsicle plugging his lips out by its stick, so that he may speak, "Did you call me— or?"

Rukia's head shot up from in between her knees, her jaw unhinged, and her eyes glistening with welling moisture. She bounced up from the couch and lashed out wildly, "Where were you!? Where did you go!?"

Ichigo opened his mouth to answer—

"Why would you just _leave_? I was calling you and looking for you, and— are you eating my ice cream?"

He stopped, and looked at the half eaten treat in his hand, and then, back down to her. "Are you," he squinted, narrowing his eyes thinly, his brows pinched in befuddlement, "are you _crying_?"

Rukia shrank away from Ichigo, running her finger under her right eye, to find to her surprise— a tear. She wiped and beat at her eyes mercilessly, dropping her head and running her forearms across her face, "You...you big _idiot_..."

"Whoa— I, I'm sorry, I'll," Ichigo reached out to her, and then, he drew his arms back into himself. He looked panicked, darting his eyes around the room for anything, _anything _to say, "I'll— I'll put it back!" He cried, holding the ice cream out away from his body, "In the freezer. Hey? Stop that! What's wrong with you?"

"I don't _care_!" Rukia hissed, "About...ice cream..."

"Then why are you crying?"

"I am _not_ crying." She denied sternly, "I still have sleep in my eyes. They're watering."

"Isn't that what crying is?"

"No you _fool_! I mean— yes, but—"

"Are you angry?" Ichigo pummeled her with question after question after question. There was never a time where he'd caught Rukia crying, or a time where she would _dare _expose such emotion to _anyone_. Seeing her now, here in front of him, with watery eyes is...is startling. And he had no idea what to think, or how to handle the situation appropriately. Rukia shook her head slowly, her eyes still on the ground, "No."

"Then why are you upset?"

"I'm _not _upset," Rukia snapped, and then, her voice fell back into its woeful tone, "I was...worried."

Ichigo blinked, stunned, "Worried? Worried about what?"

"About _you_!"

"Yeah—? But for _what_?" He reiterated. Rukia sucked in her lips and inhaled through her nostrils, poking out her chest, her voice irritated, as she shrills, "Be—_cause_!"

Yeah. Because "because" was a legitimate answer. Ichigo shrugged his shoulders, and shook his head madly, "Because? Because _what_!?" He shouted. It was the first time he's yelled at her since he's been able to speak, and it's taken her for a spin. His voice was alive with emotions in which Rukia could pinpoint and remove need it be necessary. Just from his expressions of retort, she could tell her was confused, startled, concerned, and probably a bit angry.

"Why are you so worried? I don't get it, I mean, I understand that you'd be a little upset that I wasn't around for a _second_— but you're overreacting as if— is there something you know that you aren't telling me about?" Ichigo completed his loud speech, his voice was raised, whether it was in anger, or not. Rukia's lips fell apart, and before she could answer—

_Bang, bang, bang_!

"_Keep it down will ya!? It's too early for all this screaming!_" A woman's voice, the woman below Rukia's apartment, shouted through her thin ceiling up at them. Both Ichigo and Rukia looked down to the ground at their own feet, and took one step back further away from each other. Distancing themselves. Rukia lifted her head again, to look at him. Her shoulders sank, and her head tilted, "I...just...what were you doing? Out there?"

Ichigo sighed, bringing its voice down from it's high dynamic to speak to her calmly, with his shoulders shrugged, "I mean. I don't know it's just, it's stuffy in here. I hate being crammed up in this small place...I wanted to step outside."

That's right. Rukia hasn't let Ichigo venture out from her apartment in days. She seemed to have not thought that her apartment, that may have once been a jungle of adventure to a small house pet, is no longer such excitement to a full grown male. She opened her hands, and shrugged her shoulders, "Do you wanna...go for a walk?"

Ichigo peeked his brow in interest. It was almost funny, considering that when Rukia would even _say _the word walk once upon a time, his point ears would stick up so high and so quickly. He'd be running for his harness before she could even fetch it herself. Except, now those pointy and lovable ears weren't there. And a harness was completely out of the question.

She took his sudden change in expression as an unsaid "yes", and sighed, rolling her head. "Alright, I guess...I guess I'll go get dressed..."

And then it hit her.

He had no shoes.

Rukia looked down at her companion's socked feet, and ran her hands through her hair in distress. He too looked at his own feet, curling his toes against the fibrous carpet. This, posed as an issue, no doubt. "I mean," she said, "shoes...ah, shoes. We don't even know what size shoe you wear..."

"Look, it's whatever," Ichigo replied flatly, "It's not a big deal. Just. Don't startle me like that anymore."

"Startle _you_?"

"Yeah, y'know, with the _eh_," he said, as he traces his fingers down his eyes and his cheeks to mimic the movement of tears, "'n the _ugh_. The tears. Waterworks—"

"I was _not_— _crying_!"

~X~

Tomorrow's the day. After about a five minute long conversation with the woman about to be her new boss, Rukia was excited for her brand new job— even though for the next couple of days, she would do more training than working. But _still_. There was a hint of stress swimming in her pool of excitement. After she'd gotten off the phone with her employer, she'd squeezed in a call to Yoruichi, for an odd request.

And the conversation had gone, as followed:

"_You don't happen to have a pair of men's shoes lying around...do you_?" Rukia had asked.

Surprisingly, and yet, not all too shockingly, Yoruichi in fact _did _have such possessions. And not only that, she claimed to have several items of male apparel in store for Rukia. Rukia had asked no questions, nor had she thought too deeply on the subject.

She simply thanked the woman, and replied, "_I'll be there soon_."

In the living room she sat patiently, staring at her television with weary, droopy eyes. Ichigo's words, after penetrating her mind, still buzzed wildly in her head.

_Is there something you're not telling me_?

She closed her eyes and groaned, kneading her forehead thoroughly with her fingers in excruciating thought. How will she tell him? When will she tell him? Perhaps today, when he exits her bedroom after he's fully dressed. He's just now gotten out the shower— _finally_. The man takes longer showers than she does, dammit.

"Ichigo," she called from the living room couch, silent, as she waited for him to reply. He didn't. What the hell was he doing?

Anytime he was left alone in her bedroom it always took him a lifetime to get himself "ready" or right enough to come outside of it. She rolled her eyes, impatiently, tapping her nails against the arm of her couch. She could at least pass the time doing something she hasn't quite had the time to do since becoming so busy with Ichigo.

Search the web.

Slowly, she rose up from the couch and came to the last place she left her laptop, on one of the shelves beneath her television. She took it, and slid back down into a comfortable position, lying across the couch, with the device on her lap. What to do, what to do.

It's been a while since she's logged into facebook. Maybe there she could waste time in doing, whatever it is people do on facebook. She wouldn't know since she barely logged onto her account even _when _she had the time. There wasn't a lot of social networking to do when you were as unsocial as she was.

After several failed attempts at her own password, and an email confirmation to "change password" later, she was finally able to access her facebook account. Or perhaps, her own personal _hell _was the correct word.

Oh god. She cringed painfully at her profile picture, which _had _to be at least a few years old.

Her hair was long and her face was blemished with small red bumps, probably from all the fucking _make up _she used to cake on. Her eyes were dark and heavy with black smudgy eyeliner and— jesus christ! Had she thought this was cute!?

Her face burned with embarrassment, covered by her hands as if anyone could see her now. She hadn't even wanted to go to the picture and delete it, because honestly. She didn't want to see the _full picture_. So it was with great displeasure, that she slowly, painfully, brought herself to the photo and deleted it as _quickly _as possible from her album. At least, she thought she had.

Then again she had _no idea _how to work facebook. All of it has changed over the course of...however long it's been. And then, bravely, Rukia delved into the deepest, darkest realms of her page. Her other photos from the dark past.

She gasped in horror, what with all the makeup and the wicked awful hairstyles— her hair completely _fried _in one picture, from all the chemical processes and teasing she'd done to it in the past. She cried out loud in agony, just _looking_ at these horrific photos was painful. God, she prayed that Ichigo had completely forgotten about this phase she _struggled _through. Without further ado, she shot through the entire album, deleting photo after photo. Deleting the _entire album_. And then, going to her actual profile to witness the damage she'd done to it before—

Her profile name, Rukia PYON Kuchiki, made her heart drop down to her stomach.

Not to mention, her past statuses with written words and misspells such as "lolz" and...good lord.

"_Fuck _me," she hissed lowly, nevermore has she hurried to do something on her computer than now. Editing her profile, she removed the dreaded "pyon" from her name, she removed her nickname— which she not _dareth _speak out loud in this house. And then she engaged in a deleting spree equivalent to genocide, waving across the entirety of her profile with her mouse pad and cursor. Although, occasionally, she would stop to read the absurdity that she'd dared to publish and—

"_FUCK ME_!" She bellowed to the top of her lungs and flung her head back over the couch. There was _no way _she would be able to recover from such embarrassment. But then again, maybe her forty facebook friends, all from her school, hadn't peeked at her profile recently. Or ever. Hopefully, never. "_What_," Ichigo entered the room with a puzzled expression on his face, following Rukia's outburst.

Quickly, she half shut her laptop and returned to the calmest composure she could bring herself to muster, her lips sealed shut, and her posture corrected. "_Hm_?" She peeped, as if she hadn't said anything at all before then. Ichigo narrowed his eyes, only his head poking out from around the corner. "Are you dressed?" Rukia questioned, and blinked, "What are you doing out here naked!?"

"I can't find my—"

"The laundry room," Rukia shrieked, "in the dryer! Get out of here!"

Ichigo rolled his eyes and disappeared out of Rukia's sight. Leaving her to _wallow_ once more in her own shame, in peace. Alright, she reopened her laptop and sighed. After completing her deleting spree of comments and messages and pictures, her profile was a blank slate to start a new, less infuriating, chapter. But in the meantime, while she was online, she could check her timeline and see what those who were still active users of their accounts have been up to as of recently.

She scrolled down the uninteresting clutter of statuses, stopping every now and then to laugh at anything she found funny enough to actually read. Including a status from a woman she used to attend high school with, her name, Rangiku Matsumoto. The status she wrote had only been composed of few words, and yet the amount of likes was _baffling_. Not to mention the comments reading... "hey sexy".

Or, "ur hot".

She wrinkled her nose, confused. And then, adventured on into Rangiku's profile. With the woman's cover photo being of herself, and her profile picture the same. Lord is she beautiful. Of course, she was pretty in high school, but man. Adulthood has done her _no _wrong.

Her hair is cut sort now, still blonde and beautiful, but short. In her profile photo she's wearing a white t-shirt and pink blazer. Her full, plump lips are panted pink and pouty, showing little teeth behind them. She was sexy without _trying _to be sexy. Maybe that's why she had a startling amount of friends on facebook. Either that, or the fact that, as Rukia learned whilst further examining the woman's profile, she had become a model. A profession unsurprising when one looks at her. Boy, has she gotten successful...

Back to her own timeline, Rukia retracted. Grumbling and snorting enviously. She scrolled, and then stopped, her eyes wide with horror. Horror in the form of a wall photo posted by Momo Hinamori as of last week, a picture of her, in Rukia's apartment. With Ichigo. Taken on the day that Rukia came home to find them playing cards together.

Only in this picture, they weren't playing cards.

Momo was smiling, she and her face leaned in close to Ichigo, who's wearing what looks to be either a forced smile, or an uncomfortable smile himself. But that isn't the only one. There's a picture of just Ichigo, actually smiling, looking down at his hand of cards. He looked to be in mid-laugh when the picture was taken, and the caption read, "_This guy has been beating me at cards all night!_"

Rukia's mouth dropped, she scoffed shrilly, and continued to look through photos posted in that time and date on Momo's profile. And even, reading some of the comments.

_Dang he's hot_, read one of them, and another from Renji reading: Where the hell were you last night? Lol. Posted days ago.

Momo's reply being: Rukia's place! Renji Abarai I got to hang out with her cute friend. Her cute "_not boyfriend_" friend.

Not boyfriend friend.

Oh no. Oh _hell _no. Rukia expressed pure horror upon stumbling on the very last photo taken that night of the two of them. One of Momo making the notorious _duck face _whilst holding up the peace sign with one hand. And Ichigo next to her, his arm slung around her shoulder and his head lowered. His eyes are closed, and again, he looks to be in mid-laugh. And the caption read: _Hangin' out with Mr. Funny guy_.

"_Ichigo_!" She sirened, and this time, she slammed her laptop closed carelessly. Ichigo appeared in the hallway once more, a dark t-shirt dangling from in between his lips, as he righted his jeans and the button in the front. This time he was _sure _he heard her call for him, and by the looks of it, she hadn't done it with good intention. Ichigo yanked the t-shirt with his hands and fanned it out until he found the appropriate opening to stick his torso through, and he began to cover himself whilst speaking toward Rukia, "What?"

Rukia cracked her jaw, she inhaled deeply, as if about to shout, but remembered briefly of the woman below them. And the last thing she needed, was a visit from the landlord, or worse, the police.

And on that note, she hadn't even know what she was going to say in the first place. The call of his name had been more impulsive than actual intention, "_You_," she crowed, quieter.

She slid her laptop aside and stood up on her stern two feet, crossing her arms over her modest bust, "Do you have a crush on Momo?"

"Who?" Ichigo muttered as he flattened out the shirt against his body, "Momo? A _crush_?"

Rukia squinted, "Do you _like _Momo?"

"I don't even know who that is."

"Momo? _Auntie __Momo_? The girl I came home to while you two were— playing cards or whatever."

Ichigo blinked. He shook his head softly, and shrugged his shoulders in reply, "I don't remember...an aunt Momo."

She couldn't tell whether his denial was simply a dodge to her question, or honest truth. But further inspection led her to believe that...he wasn't evading her question with lies. He wasn't nervous, he wasn't trying, he genuinely had absolutely no clue who, or what, Rukia was talking about. Rukia dropped her hands to her side, her expression lightening tremendously— from angry, to shocked.

Yoruichi was right. His memory _was _disappearing.

And then she remembered, Ichigo's comment in the past about speaking to Momo. And handling an explanation to her regarding Rukia's cat, and his reply:

_What cat_?

She'd taken it as him being clever, but now, she was _positive_, he had sincerely, forgotten.

"Ichigo," Rukia breathed softly, straightening her back and lifting her chest, "Who am I?"

Ichigo paused, paralyzed— his eyes shot up and examined Rukia thoroughly from head to toe, "Rukia."

"Yes, but what am I to you," she said, "what are _we _to _each other_?"

He sighed out loud and closed his eyes. The fact that he'd actually had to _think _hard about it worried her more than all else. Rukia swallowed nervously, awaiting his slow reply.

"We're...friends," he finally said in retort to Rukia's dreaded interrogative, "close friends."

_Best _friends. But perhaps wording hadn't been an entirely huge deal, as long as he was aware of the bases of their alliance. _Good friends_ was enough. "Do you remember how we met?" Rukia asked, once again, throwing him for an elaborate mind loop. He rolled his eyes slowly in thought, and groaned aloud, followed by a heavy exhale.

"Yeah!" Ichigo cheeped, "Yeah, we met...a long time ago. I remember you being. Small. _Smaller_." He stuttered anxiously, dragging his hands up to his hair still moist from his shower, "And I remember a man too. In all my...memories. It's you and some guy. And then, it's just you. And it's all messy and spotty and white."

"_Huh_?" Rukia wrinkled her nose in confusion at the explanation following that. Ichigo scoffed, and reiterated, "I mean, I can't remember anything else _but _you two. And what I _do _remember is...splotchy. It's all jumbled up and skipping through things. And it's weird."

He ran his fingers through the thickness of his hair and massaged his scalp thoughtfully, "Did I hit my head? Or do I...why can't I remember? A Momo? Or anything."

Rukia held her breath deep within her, her heart pounding erratically. She's in about as much despair as he is, watching him struggle to grip to a past he can't remember. With only she and Byakuya kept in mind. It startled her, that although he couldn't remember Momo, another key character in his life, he had remembered she and her brother.

And she wouldn't even _ask_ about Renji.

Maybe...maybe that was a good thing. Maybe that meant that their relationship was deeper and important enough for his mind to keep hold on. Well, at least _some _of it.

But for how long?

Rukia finally let go of her breath and lowered her eyes to her feet. She exhaled softly, through her nostrils, and caressed the back of her prickled neck thoughtfully with the palm of her cold hand, "Hey," she finally said, in hushed tone. Ichigo finally looked to her, and she too, rose her head. Upon her face, a warm smile plastered and forced. She brought her hands to the front of her body and held them tightly before her legs, blinking.

"Wanna go for that walk?"


End file.
